Tansho
by Aama
Summary: One night in a tavern, Tasuki meets a young prostitute named Tansho. They unexpectedly fall in love, and Tansho finds her harsh, unpredictable life suddenly changing in ways she never thought imaginable. Complete
1. The Women of the Black Dove

Well, FF decided to delete my entire account for some reason that I am still ignorant of (no warning whatsoever!) So I am slowly but surely posted all of stories back up, including this ficcie that seemed to be my most popular.  
  
I have decided to edit this story on account of the rating and how graphic some of my original content was. Mostly I will be re-checking for spelling and grammar mistakes (I don't have spell-check on my computer!! Waaahhh!!) and adding and re-wording a few sentences here and there. The heavy editing won't come in until I reach the chapters containing explicit sexual scenes. Now there will still be sexual content (so beware! ^_^), but it will be toned down a bit.  
  
I debated for a while whether or not to repost this fic, but then I decided to on account of the people who have so faithfully read it. (Thank you all!!! ^_^) So here it is again!!  
  
I'm busy as hell at the present time, but I will try my best to post a chapter a day or, at the most, every few days (wheee, this'll give me extra time to write where I left off!!), so it'll take a while before it's back up to the 28 chapters that were posted before my account was deleted.  
  
I'm also under a new pen name (obviously), so for those of you who don't know me, I use to be known as "Inez". Now on to the warnings and disclaimers...etc...etc.  
  
*WARNING*...my content is of the **strong** adult nature!!! There are sexual references just about all throughout the story and sexual content in a few of the later chapters (though not porn-like graphic). Also, there is very vulgar language (not only Tasuki, but my OC's a potty mouth too!), and a little bit of violence (not that bad...but it's still there).  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything from Fushigi Yuugi except my own original characters.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1 The Women of The Black Dove  
  
I lied to them when I said that I had never noticed him before. Of course I had noticed him; what woman could have been able to turn her eyes elsewhere? But the other women didn't need to know that. They were falling all over themselves already, trying to get at him like a pack of wild dogs fighting for a fresh scrap of meat. I sure as hell didn't want to be in the middle of that.  
  
Actually, I believe I was the first to lay eyes on him. I had made the mistake of sucking in too deep a breath when I saw his hair, like a blazing fire licking the ink-black sky. I felt my insides move in longing to touch it, to get scortched. Koi must have heard me, for she poked my ribs and settled a hand on her plump hip. "What's wrong?" she had whispered. But all she had to do was follow my eyes to where he had sat.  
  
"Fuck the devils!" she had hissed into my dark hair. I saw her bite her lip out of the corner of my eye. "That right there, m'girl, is a beauty of a man if I've ever seen one!"  
  
"Man?!" I spat back, trying to seem unmoved by the flames crowning his head. "Perhaps by a year or two." Koi hadn't replied. Her eyes were too busy peeling away his clothes; she had never been known to wait long.  
  
Why had I not kept him to myself for just a few moments longer? Of course they would have seen him sooner or later, but if I had held in my damn breath it might have been later. **********  
  
So now here I stand, Koi across from me, one small hand running across her breasts as her eyes stare. Misa, Okichi, and Asako are with us as well. Their eyes have also found what Koi is looking to intently at.  
  
"I'm tired of it!" Okichi huffs. Her hair is as creamy as a pearl, and much near the same color. I can see that it strains against the loose buns that cage half of it, holding it out of her eyes while allowing thick tendrils to trail down to her backside. As she shifts from one bare foot to another, it bobs and threatens to burst loose.  
  
"I know," Misa sighs, her flute of a voice whistling gently in my ear, "It's pissin' the hell out of us all. And it just makes it worse that he's so damn lovely."  
  
As the whores of the Black Dove look down at the men that fill their tavern and brothel, I can see Asako's eyes fill up. She is the oldest of us. Save for her hair, which is the color of the surface of the moon, she looks no older than I, the youngest.  
  
Her thick lips spread to show that her face has been struck more than once. Two teeth are gone, black gaps remain. But she smiles just the same and struts her way past me and Koi to the edge of the banister that separates us from the air. Where we stand, we can see all that goes on in the tavern below.  
  
"It's time we do something about this," she replies, her back to us. I come to stand at her left. She nudges me with her shoulder and a light cackle escapes from her mouth. "Poor little Tansho, blind as a mole." The other harlots laugh, but not cruelly. I frown. I know that she speaks of how I said that I had never noticed him. If only they knew how my eyes strain constantly for a glimpse. But I feel nothing hard towards them, for I know that it's only a joke among us.  
  
"So," Koi pipes up, "What shall we do to break him?" Her golden hair flits about her head like a thousand fairies.  
  
"Nothing," Asako answers.  
  
"Nothing?" Koi retorts. Her blue eyes glint at me briefly, showing her obvious disapointment. I shrug, still pretending to not care about the beautiful man.  
  
"What can we do that we haven't already done?" Asako asks, turning to face us. "Crack the little bastard over the head with a bottle of that sake he loves so much and haul his ass up here ourselves," Koi says, grinning madly.  
  
"That sounds like the only thing left that we haven't tried, Asako, " Okichi replies, a grin on her lips as well, "The stubborn little son-of-a- bitch won't even cast an eye our way!"  
  
"Yeah, I say he's a queer," Misa spits at us. I can tell that she wants him the worst of us all; I belive all of us can tell.  
  
"No, I've seen him a'lookin'," Asako assures us.  
  
"Who the fuck at!" Koi and Misa shreik almost in unision.  
  
Asako nods toward me. "Tansho seems to have caught his eye this very minute."  
  
I follow her eyes to where he sits with two others, a lovley young woman with rich purple hair and a young man in the robes of a monk. The fire-haired man is staring at me. I can see his dark green eyes clearly, like pools of pond water. I look away nervously.  
  
The harlots are staring at me as well.  
  
"What the hell are you looking at, you goddamn cows!" I crow at them.  
  
Misa snorts. It would be a hell of a riot if I had called them sows instead. "Funny, you should say that, you bitch of a liar! You been eyein' him far longer than any of us, I bet the gods!" She finally quiets herself and begins to suck on her lip violently.  
  
"Leave her be, now," Asako says, "She can't help that she draws his eye. Just as you can't help from drawing Kisho's eye, you little chit." Okichi howls in laughter, and I crack a smile. It's been known for some time that Asako and Misa sport after the same man.  
  
The older woman comes to stand among us again. "I say we play a game, m'girls," she says.  
  
The corners of Koi's mouth turn toward the sky.  
  
"I'm afraid that fair play is dead. We have no choice but to move on to another approach. Our lovely red-head is the obstacle and the prize, it seems. I propose that we reward the girl who runs the course and gets at him first."  
  
"Like we ain't been doin' that since he first started coming in here," Misa interupts, her chest heaving from anger.  
  
"Let me finish, if you would you little huss," Asako snaps, "I say we need a little something more to egg us on other than him." She pauses to smile, showing the black holes again. " I say the first of us to bed him gets not only him, but also a month of each of our wages."  
  
"A whole month?" Okichi cries.  
  
"The bigger the better. The faster you'll want to get in his breeches, m'girl," Asako answers pertly.  
  
"Well, I'd be lyin' if I said four more months' wages didn't make a difference," Misa replies, her dark eyes already clamped on the red-head below us. I find that I almost pity him now, knowing that he will soon be drowning in the hair and breasts of five women. "But I'd still be after him if there was no money left in the world," Misa continues, " A man like that needs to make rounds... so all the hussies in the world can get a go at him."  
  
I chuckle lightly and join my friends to look at our prey. Anxiousness fills my insides like a sweet poison. I wonder if I long too much. I wonder if we all long too much. Never before havd we done something such as this; but, then again, we have never been rejected so blatantly before. This man would not touch one of us, and now that money was involved, our simple desire to bed him has become a quest and a battle against each other. Oh yes, I'd still want him even if four months' wages weren't tacked on to him. But who can deny that lust and money are not as close as sisters?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I'll be posting as faithfully as I can from now on (if I get some good reviews!!! ^_^ *wink wink*) And for those of you who have faithfully read "Tansho", I'm so terribly sorry that you'll have to wait for the "new chapters". Please be patient though...'cause I haven't forgotten you!!! ^_^ 


	2. The First Step to Undressing a Man

Disclaimer: I do not own Fushigi Yuugi or any of Miss Watase's characters, but I do own Tansho, Koi, Misa, Okichi, and Asako.  
  
Author's note: Just in case you're new to this fic and wondering when in the Fushigi Yuugi storyline this is taking place, it begins after Tamahome is retrieved from Kotou by Tasuki, Miaka, and Chichiri, and will hopefully end when the series ends (don't know yet 'cause I still haven't written it...so don't be surprised if it ends in a different place.)  
  
Warning: A bit 'o cussin' in this here chapter!  
  
Chapter 2 The First Step to Undressing a Man  
  
None of us are stupid. To be a whore, you have to know the inner workings of a person by a sniff of their sweat. And if you don't do what that knot in your belly tells you to do, you'll be found the next morning wrapped up in blood-caked linens, your throat cleaved open like the thing you sell so well. But tonight, we allow ourselves to be stupid. They're stupid because they flock to him as soon as we seal our game; I'm stupid because I want to.  
  
I've only lived seventeen years, but I know that I'm the wisest of all the whores of the Black Dove. Even Asako, who has sold herself for a good half of her life, doesn't know to stay away. But then again, after only twenty-eight years, her hair is the color of a silver coin. Those years have taken their tole on her already.  
  
I watch them from above. Okichi has her hand between his legs already. The fire-haired man takes her by the elbow and gently moves her away from him, pushing Koi away from him as well. A scowl blemishes his face, as hard as the oak table he sits at. The young woman sitting with him smirks at their other companion, the monk. Both are obviously enjoying their friend's battle with the harlots.  
  
Asako surprises me; she keeps herself away after witnessing the quick failure of her fellow women. I feel that I have judged her too quickly; perhaps her years have sunk into her bones after all.  
  
Koi and Okichi accept defeat for the moment and move on to their other customers, their eyes still locked on the back of the man whom they want so badly. Their bodies swell with longing, like a wave about to crash into the shore. But they long only for him, the one who refuses to long for them. I do not believe that they have ever had to fight so hard for something that usually came so easily to them.  
  
I see that Misa's bare feet itch like a rash to pad toward the young man. But, for some reason, she stays where she is until another man hoots at her and beckons rudely. Uncertain, she moves toward the man, her wide eyes still settled where Koi's and Okichi's are. Asako pretends not to notice the young man as she leans over a traveling merchant, smothering him with her moon shine hair. Not two minutes pass before she is leading him up the stairs toward the rooms.  
  
I stand silent as I watch them pass, the man's smooth hands already groping, his breeches already swelling. Asako shows the two holes in her mouth as she passes me. I pretend not to even see her and her eager customer.  
  
The red-headed man and his companions are alone. I can hear his voice now, rising and billowing like a black storm cloud. His thin accent makes me feel cold suddenly, and I rub my chest and neck to warm them. He curses over and over again as his companions look on in mirth. He is obviously annoyed and is venting his frustrations. The purple-haired young woman says something and he shoves his chair away from the oak table, seeming almost desperate to get away from her. He throws a cup of sake into the back of his throat before he stoles away from the table, his voice still blowing around the tavern like a wind. I see my chance. The years of whoring have taught me more than the motions of pleasure; they have also taught me when to keep my distance from a man and when to press myself against him.  
  
I descend the stairs swiftly but quietly, keeping my eyes on the red blaze of his hair. He is headed for the latrines. I get to the tavern floor just before he reaches me. I start moving toward him, my arm pressed firmly at my side, my eyes on the pocket of his black overcoat. Just as we pass one another, I thrust my hand into his pocket and grab the small circle that I know is a coin. I retrieve my hand and go on as if he were nothing more that an apparation.  
  
"Hey!" He howls at my back. I think I feel heat swirl in my hair, but I'm sure that my mind is playing with me.  
  
I tuck the coin between my breasts, turning just in time for him to see me in the action of it. As I bring my hand away, I pull the neck of my loose gown down farther, shivering at the sudden chill on my newly-bared skin. I can feel the tops of my dark breasts as they rise and fall.  
  
"You fuckin' thief! Give me it back!" He demands, shoving a hand toward me, palm open. I am momentarily shocked. He certainly isn't meek as I expected him to be. He is obviously quite the little son-of-a-bitch that the other women said he was. I regret now that I have kept my distance from him for so long.  
  
"Pardon, sir?" I ask innocently, savoring the look of utter disbelief on his face. His gold-laced green eyes flash like a snake's, but he doesn't move toward me to retrieve his money forcefully. He just stands with his arms pressed against his sides, as stubborn as a child who wants his toy back. I resist the desire to laugh in his face.  
  
"My money!" He yells, "Give it the hell back!" I expect him to spit the words "whore", "harlot", or "bitch" in my face, grab me by the crown on my hair, and demand his coin back. But he simply continues cursing at me. He doesn't even stand in my face to try to intimidate me.  
  
"I don't believe I have your money, sir," I say, taking a few dainty steps toward the heat of his body, "But you are more than welcome to check for yourself." I breathe in deeply to puff up my breasts and spread my arms wide, inviting him in. I want to laught at my own foolish behavior, but I'm having too much fun with this rambunctious young man.  
  
He stares. And I stare. I find myself begging him to come, to touch me, if only with the breeze of his body passing by mine. But he grunts and turns his back to me, his red hair swirling upon his head, teasing the goddamned hell out me. He stalks off to the latrines, grumbling incoherantly. I find that I want to hurl something at him, but nothing is close enough for my fingers to grab. Then, I realize that I at least got a rise out of him, even if it wasn't the one I wanted.  
  
After collecting myself and making sure the gold peice was still nestled safely between my breasts, I turn around and stroll into the tavern and straight to the table where the woman and monk sit, talking quietly to each other.  
  
"Well hello there!" I chime, leaning a hand on the hard oak of their table, pushing my naked shoulder out of my gown in the process.  
  
"Hello," the woman answers. The monk looks at me with his lips in a thin line, but a smile in his eyes. Suddenly, I realize that he wears a mask. I am startled for a moment, but then I must resist the urge to snatch the mask away, wishing to see the face hidden beneath it.  
  
"Your friend...the red headed one," I begin, leaning heavily on the table, "Seems a bit aggitated." I say the word with deliberate slowness, sucking all the sounds out of it like sugar out of a sweet. "Know what I mean?"  
  
The young woman smiles, making the small beauty mark under her left eye rise higher on her face. "Who--Tasuki?"  
  
Tasuki. His name. I know his name. I lean towards her, wanting to know more. To know a man's name is the first step to undressing him.  
  
"Yes--him. Is he always so uptight--," I pause momentarily, "I mean...is he always so unfriendly-like?"  
  
"Oh no!" she cries, waving her hand as if shooing the idea away, "He's just a bit pissed off at you whor--er, the-- these lovely women you have here in your fine tavern!" She grins, and leans toward me. "He's not too fond of women. Don't get me wrong...he's not a...well, you know...he's just a little different, if you know what I mean. Bad childhood concerning women, I hear." She then casts a desperate look at the monk.  
  
"Plus, he's a little drunk, y'know," the monk says, finally revealing his voice to me. I raise an eyebrow.  
  
"May I ask your names?" I reply, moving the attention away from their angsty companion.  
  
"I'm Nuriko," the woman answers, "And this here is Chichiri." She moves her body toward him, hitting him lightly in the shoulder.  
  
"Tansho," I reply, offering my own name.  
  
My eyes look up to see him returning, his black boots making wide strides across the floor. My eyes settle on his face. His dark skin gleams in the shadows of the lamp-lit tavern. I think of caramel, then the taste of it.  
  
"I think I should be moving along," I whisper to them, "Do come back. I'd like to see you again." I pause only to smile. "And bring him as well?" I incline my head toward the young man, feeling my dark brown hair spray onto my bare shoulder.  
  
Nuriko smiles and nods sweetly. I quickly move away as he gets nearer and turn my attention to a group of men at another table, every single one of their mouths gaping open in laughter. I want to turn back around. I want to taste caramel, or gaze at it at least.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Will Tasuki ever brave Tansho's monsterous breasts to retrieve his coin? Maybe...maybe not! ^_^  
  
A/N: I haven't changed much as my past readers can see, but I've taken out and added in a few sentences here and there. When I get into the more explicit chapters, I'll do much more editing. Thank you all for the great reviews!! *sigh* I love reading reviews; you have no idea how much they encourage me!! Anyways, I wanted to do this the first time I posted Tansho, but was just too damn lazy ^_^. Now I've got a little more time...so I'm gonna take the time to answer all you're reviews as a way to personally say thank you!!  
  
(P.S. Happy Thanksgiving...hope none of you get too fat!^_^)  
  
Replies to Reviewers:  
  
roku kyu: So I'm not the only one? Who else has this happened to (I would like to contact them and ask if they have any idea as to why this happened). As for FF hunting down the former NC-17's...I kinda suspected that, but I've seen far too many still posted. I've had a few friends suggest that maybe it was just an FF quirk. And, yes, I am planning on editing a few of the later explicit chapters out of respect for the R rating (I should have done it when I changed ratings...but I was too stuborn and lazy) ^_^  
  
Shadow Priestess: Oh yaaaay!!! I have a new fan *hugs Shadow Priestess* ^_^  
  
Bella: Yes, your premonition is right. In the original post the content does get extremely graphic, but I'm planning on a little bit of editing and re-writing to try to keep the original mood and storyline of the fic...but cut down on the explicit stuff (though just enough to get by ^_^).  
  
Stariko-Tasuki No Miko: Thank you so much for your compliment on my "time- stopping" moment. I really loved writing that part (and I kinda got teary eyed too).  
  
Cacat-angel: I don't think it was specifically my content that got me booted off FF (though I might be wrong), I think it was just a mistake on the part of FF (for all I know...they might have just pushed the wrong button or something like that.) As for you thinking of starting an "R" site for all the FF rejects...I'm all for it. I'd be honored to have "Tansho" up on your site! Long live the first amendment and our freedom of expression *ahem* ^_^  
  
Sansele: Man, you're the 3rd person to tell me that you know of someone who's been deleted as well. (I think roku is right...FF is on pot or something.) Anyways, thank you so much for your compliment on my fic!! And I would make my own website, but I'm too booked with school right now to be able to keep something like that updated (I struggle as it is with my writing). Plus...I'm sadly ignorant of web site creating.  
  
Obsidian Eclipse: You know something??? I ADORE your pen name! It's kick- ass!! ^_^ Anyways, thank you for your compliments on Tansho and her personality (I love OC's to death! I started out as a regular fiction writer before getting sucked into anime, and I've had a lot of practice creating my own characters along with their personalities. If it weren't for my experience in it, poor Tansho would have probably been the most blah person ever ^_^) Also, thank you alot for reviewing "Riverwide" and even more of a thank you for letting me know about Adult FF (I need to visit that site and see how it is!).  
  
Chibi-Kaz: Actually, I've just written the chapter where all of Tansho's problems are solved...too bad it's gonna take awhile to get up on FF. *dodges fireballs that Chibi-Kaz starts flinging* But I promise that this fic is a happy ending!! ^_^  
  
Once again, thank you all!! 


	3. Four Red Ribbons

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and the other people in the Black Dove.  
  
Warning: Just a little bit of cussing and a few refs to adult activities. ^_^ Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 3 Four Red Ribbons  
  
As I entertain a group of men, pretending to listen to their bull shit stories, I keep one eye on Tasuki's back and the other on Shingen, the tavern master; and therefore, mine and the other women's pimp. He keeps his eyes on us as well, just as a good pimp should. I watch the flickering movement of his dark eyes, for they tell me who to go to, who to make believe I love them, and who to simply get what I could out of.  
  
He is a frightful man with a thick waist, arms and legs the sizes of logs, and wide shoulders. His bald head is always wrapped in a scrap of cloth to protect its nakedness. He is a generous pimp, thank the gods, having given each of his women a room of their own and a few days off a month other than our neccessary blood week. Half of each night's wages are demanded, but what does a whore need besides a bed and loose clothes? The harlots of the Black Dove are treated better than most others, and they know it. It doesn't even bother us when he calls on us at night, for each of us know that the embrace of a gentle bear is far better than the embrace of death on a frozen street.  
  
Shingen calls Koi to him and sends her upstairs with a tilt of his chin. The richer customers usually don't like to mingle among the common city people to search out their pleasure; they go straight to the pimp instead of begging the attention of the whore. One is waiting in a room upstairs, no doubt. Koi seems to be a favorite with the "gold-eaters" as we call them. It is either her golden hair or her talented mouth. I smirk at the thought in my mind.  
  
Suddenly I feel fingers trailing the cleft of my backside and I scream, spinning my head to see who the roaming fingers belong to. The man at my right grins and howls in laughter at my startled response, showing black teeth. I recoil at their appearance.  
  
"Now, now, lovely," he chuckles, "Don't get jumpy."  
  
"You can touch m'dear," I say, running a fingertip down the length of his coarse beard, "But you sure as hell can't probe around 'till I see some gold!"  
  
He frowns and glances down at his third bottle of sake. "Damn all the hells!" he mumbles, "Done spent every last piece!"  
  
"Oh," I purr sympathetically while leaning seductively into him, "Come back tomorrow night ,then?" I trail my finger down his short beard again before moving on at a flicker of Shingen's eyes.  
  
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"Tansho?" Misa's coffee bean colored hair spills through my doors well before her pale face. "Are you not coming down? Should I tell Shingen you're sick?"  
  
I look up from my vanity table, and smile.  
  
"Oh..." her breath leaks from her pink lips like fog when she catches sight of me, "How lovely!" She pads into my room and slips behind me. Her small hands take my hair into them. "What lovely ribbons! Are they new?"  
  
"Bought them just last night," I say, tightening the knot at the end of the last one. Four small braids trail loosely from my scalp to my tips, raining down the rest of my unbound hair like four serpants. Each has a thin scarlet ribbon plaited into it and tied in a bow at the end. From my view in the mirror, I see four rivers of blood flowing through my dark brown hair.  
  
"They must have cost a shit load!" Misa yelps. "Oh, I've wanted some blue ones for so long..."  
  
I flush my cheeks with color with a few hard pinches of my fingers, and redden my lips with a quick nibble. Then Misa and I walk down to the tavern, our dresses barely clinging to our frames. I hope to see Tasuki. I haven't seen him, Nuriko, or Chichiri in the tavern for several nights.  
  
But then I see him before I even think to look. Tasuki sits with Nuriko and a stranger, a young man I have never seen before. His hair is a dark blue color, almost ghostly. I frown. I don't like his cold eyes.  
  
I move past them with a litte wink and word for Nuriko. As my back turns, I feel Tasuki's eyes shift to me. I wonder if he notices the red ribbons in my braids, then I realize that men hardly ever notice such things and I sigh at my foolishness. I can almost see the frown on his face, and I spread my lips in a thick smile. Do, say, and think what you will, my mind smirks, You'll be under or on top o' me in less than a week.  
  
I take only two men upstairs that night. I spend the whole rest of the time with my eyes on the redness of Tasuki's hair. I still can't believe that it's not truly fire. I also find myself studying a strange sheath of some kind strapped to his back. I have no idea of what the silver thing that is held there is, its hilt just within reach if he reached his hand over his shoulder. I know that it is too thick to be a dagger, but too short to be a sword.  
  
Men mutter at me and rub my breasts and ass, but I don't feel the same as I once did. I usually grin along with them, egging them on until I get one up the stairs and into the bed--and afterwards get my hands into the money pouch.  
  
Suddenly, I'm thankful that there are three extra rooms to lug them to and not our own private ones. I'm not sure what I would do if I had to sleep upon the rumpled and soaked linens where I had had a man not an hour earlier.  
  
Finally, I see my second chance approaching. The strange young man gets out of his seat, nods a goodbye to Tasuki and Nuriko, and strolls out the double doors of the tavern into the luke-warm air of the city. Strangely, Tasuki doesn't return his good-bye, but then I see the empty sake bottles littering his table and realize that drunkeness makes one somewhat numb to the outside world. But at least the strange young man is gone. I glance at Nuriko, appreciating her flawless face and charming beauty. I then smile to myself. One down and one to go.  
  
I see now that privacy is the only way I will be able to conquer the stubborn red- headed man who has so viciously caught my eye. This is why none of the other women have had even so much as a glimer of hope for success. They attack in a pack, like wolves attempting to bring down a deer. And they do it when he's surrounded by his friends. I have seen how he reacts to this, and I have learned from the mistakes of my fellow whores. I smile to myself and wait.  
  
Finally, after another half an hour, Nuriko gets up from her seat and hurries off to the latrines. I give my cheeks a violent pinch and my breasts a quick look over. Over the course of the night, they have made more than one unexpected appearance; and it's just fine at the right time, but when you're trying to bed a man who is nearly unbedable, it certainly won't help your chances.  
  
I walk slowly and with deliberate silence. Surprise is the best tactic for a hard approach. As his back gets closer and closer, I feel my fingers reaching out to touch his hair. Even if he never allows me to touch him again, I'll be satisfied with simply running my fingers through his hair. I find myself wondering if I'll be burned.  
  
But then I feel it on my fingers, and it's as cool as winter air. I bury my left hand in it, moving my fingers over the crown of his head like the roots of a tree, feeling it slither and freeze between my fingers like ice. He jumps unexpectedely at the feeling of a foreign hand on his head and I swing around in front of him.  
  
"What the hell..." he yelps when I take my hand away and plop it on my hip.  
  
"Now, now, m'dear...don't get jumpy," I reply, using the words that had been uttered to me earlier by the black-toothed man.  
  
Tasuki is slumped down in his chair, one hand settled on his thigh, the other swung over the back of the chair as if it were a burden to him. He lifts it momentarily to smooth the bright redness that I disrupted. His black coat is fastened closed even though the air of the tavern is heavy with heat, its hems draped over his thighs and settling at the tops of his boots. He tilts his chin at me, but I can't decern its meaning. Perhaps mere acknowledgement of my presence, whether or not it be welcomed; or perhaps an attempt to show superiority over my seemingly annoying presence. His deep green eyes lock on mine as they had when I was upstairs looking down on him. They are soft for a moment; then, suddenly, they close up as if they were clams. He is still looking at me, but he isn't seeing me. I suddenly realize that he is trying his hardest to shut himself off from me. I almost frown, but stop myself at the last minute. This may be my first as well as my last chance to get to him, and I sure as hell will not ruin it with a frown.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I hope everybody had a fun-filled, food-packed Thanksgiving!!! I ate for an hour and then slept for three ^_^, then went out and saw Die Another Day (which kicked ass!!) And I'm so sorry that I'm putting up this chapter at 11 at night (I got up at 4 this morning to go shopping with my mom, my grandmother, and my cousins. We hit Wal-Mart at 6 then hit Atlanta at 8. I'm just now getting home...14 hours later...) *sigh* I'm ready to sleep and not get up 'till noon tommorrow. Ahhhhh...bed.... ^_^  
  
Anyways, thank you guys for the reviews you left me!!  
  
Replies for Reviewers:  
  
Kitty Lynne: Hey there!! Yep, I'm finally back up and running wild again. ^_^ Take your time with the e-mail; I know you probably had a shit-load to do this week! I hope you and your family had a Happy Thanksgiving!!  
  
RyogazGal: Chap.1- I'm glad you stopped eyeing it and finally read it! ^_^ I'm so happy that I've got a new fan!!! Chap.2- While writing the original version, I tried to intertwine tactful writing with emotional love-making (not just meaningless sex). And by the way the earlier reviews read, I guess I succeeded ^_^!! There will still be sexual content in this fic just as you might find in any R-rated fic or movie (even in a few PG-13's), but I will shave off the graphics to some extent.  
  
frechiecangal: Yep! Poor me! *sniff sniff* Oh well, I dealt with it. And I may decide to put up a few chapters a day if I ain't too busy (though I just love to make ya'll wait ^_^)  
  
Missy: Man, you're the 4th...the FOURTH PERSON!!! to tell me that you know of someone to whom this has happened to!! Something seriously screwed up is going on in FF; I just wish me and all of the others out there knew what the hell it was so that we could fix it...or at least pitch a fit about it!  
  
shadow priestess: Heh heh...well, let's just say he gets something special in the next few chapters ^_^  
  
Tasukitty: Cute pen name! And thank you so much for the compliment on me pairing Tasuki with a woman. I share your views; Tasuki is definately a woman's man if ya know what I mean! ^_^  
  
Emerin Mornlight: Cool pen name (man, everybody's got kick-ass pen names!! ^_^) And yep, I totally agree with you on Tasuki!!  
  
Thanks again for all the great reviews!! I love all of you!! ^_^  
  
  
  
Well, back to the story... Will Tansho finally make her move? Will she fail or succeed in her quest to sleep with our poor Tasuki? What about the other women? Come back soon for another chapter and find out!! 


	4. Breath and Hands

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and all the other people of the Black Dove.  
  
Warning: A lot of cussing!!!!  
  
Chapter 4 Breath and Hands  
  
I watch with amusement at how he tries not to look at me, with my shoulders gleaming like pearls and my dark hair streaked with crimson. I cock my head and grin at him. He doesn't return it.  
  
"Oh, now," I whine, moving closer to him and placing my palm gently on his shoulder, "Don't be mean." I walk behind him, rotating with my hand still pressed to his shoulder. I feel him tense under my palm when I lean into his back, pressing my breasts against the base of his neck. I feel the mysterious silver object on my chest, and I peer down the valley of my breasts to try to discern what is held there. It is metal-- perhaps iron? I giggle a little for no reason at all, making sure that he feels my breath and the gentle vibrations of my chest, but not too much. Too much usually earns me a slap in the face.  
  
I take my hand away and move in front of him again, on the opposite side. His eyes avert to a fight that has broken out near the back of the tavern. I see him begin to turn his head to get a better view, but I reach my hand out and grasp his jaw, gently yet firmly. I move his face back towards mine, massaging his jaw bone as I tilt his head upward.  
  
"I believe that I'm your problem at the moment, Master Tasuki," I chirp like a little bird demanding attention. He jerks his face from my fingers and narrows his eyes at me.  
  
"And just how the hell do you know my name?" He cries as if it were a treasure I had snatched from him.  
  
"Let's just say that you're popular around here," I whisper, moving even closer to him. I feel the need to lie, just in case he takes revenge on Nuriko for telling his name to a whore. I squeeze between him and the wooden table. He jerks upright in his chair as I slip a naked leg between his knees and drape another over his thigh, twisting my body around so that my side is facing him. I lower myself slowly into his lap, taking care not to harm anything important, to him as well as to me. I am surprised that he doesn't shove me away from him. He allows me to do it, even if he doesn't realize it. I am nestled in the warmth of his lap when I could be sprawled on the sticky tiled floor of the tavern. Even though he is frowning at me and his eyes are on fire, I know that in his subconscious, I am more than welcome. I let my arm slither around his neck and settle there like a shawl. I see one of his hands pressed nonchalantly behind his head, but I cannot see his other one.  
  
"Who was your friend that left so early?" I ask to make him speak to me.  
  
"Tamahome," he answers after a bit of a pause. Wrath is soaked into every syllable of the name; I wonder if he notices it. I sure as hell do.  
  
"You don't seem too fond of him," I reply, attempting to pick words out of him.  
  
He stays silent for a moment, wondering whether or not to even answer me. I can feel the tension deep inside of his muscles. I begin to slowly rub his shoulder, then move my fingers to the base of his neck when he doesn't shrug off my hand. I think I hear a sigh, maybe a moan, and I am so arroused that I could tear him apart right where he sits. But I spread my lips into an encouraging smile, and he sees it.  
  
"We don't really get along too well...me an' him," he finally answers, "Just some differences."  
  
Then I see his eyes harden again, in anger of actually conversing with a harlot. I smile even though I know what he will say.  
  
"But that's none of your damn business..." he barks, wrenching his head away, and thus diminishing the contact between his neck and my fingers. I lift my arm from his back to give him a little space, but I have noticed something that will not allow me to get up from his lap even though he is squirming in his seat, obviously trying to dislodge me. I stare at his mouth, transfixed by what I have seen.  
  
I move my body around to face him and pull my leg out from between his knees. I plant one foot on each side of his boots and straddle him.  
  
"Hey..." he yelps as I bring my fingers up to his lips. I lean into his chest, instantly feeling warmth on my breasts. I work my right forefinger into his mouth, pulling his top lip up with my other forefinger. I finally see what I'm searching for.  
  
"Why! Holy shit!" I laugh, "You have a goddamned pair of fangs!  
  
I continue to probe his mouth, testing the sharpness of the little fangs with my fingertips. They don't draw blood, but the damn little things are like nails! He half-heartedly tries to bite me, but I work nearly four fingers between his top and bottom teeth, immoblalizing them so that I can continue to study his fangs. I find myself wondering what they would feel like if I were to kiss him. But I instantly shove the thought out of my mind. I've never kissed a man. The bastards have offered extra gold peices before, but I've never done it and never will.  
  
"Et or uckin' ingers ot y outh!" he howls, drawing the attention of several other customers. I see them turn to look, their faces cracking open into laughter at the sight of a whore with her fingers jammed into the mouth of a young red-headed man.  
  
Tasuki struggles, trying to get me to let him go. Finally, he reaches his hands up, grasps my wrists, and tugs them down between us. I lean away from him, feeling my back press into the edge of the wooden table. I also feel the junction of my thighs press gently against his. My inner thighs squeeze his hips hard to keep me balanced. He obviously feels what I feel and releases me to return to my previous position, his cheeks the color of his hair.  
  
"Keep you damn hands out of my damn mouth!" he finally yells at me, rubbing his lips, sore from my pulling. I frown.  
  
"Oh, forgive me, m'dear," I coo, leaning into him again, "I've just never seen such a thing." I get as close to him as I've ever been, my cheek pressed nearly against his, and I breathe like a wolf. My arms move around him boldly, but he doesn't try to move away. Then I see his lovley red and blue beaded earrings and I sit up in his lap again, my arms still wrapped around his neck.  
  
"Oh!" I chime, "How lovely!" I unwind one arm and take one of the earrings gently into my fingers, then I return it to its place dangling from his ear. As I bring my hand away, I sweep it over his ear lobe and across his cheek. I then flip one of the scarlet ribboned braids over my shoulder. "I don't know many men who wear earrings," I admit.  
  
He scowls and averts his eyes from me.  
  
"Oh no," I reply, "I haven't offended you, have I, Master Tasuki?" I crane my neck to make him meet my gaze. "I was just telling the truth. I don't think less of you by your wearing earrings... it's quite attractive." I smile and press the entire front of my body into him, breasts and belly. "Why, they only make you even more beautiful." I want to slit my wrists the moment the words escape my bold mouth. Never. Never never. Never does a woman like me say such a thing to a man, any man. But I don't show my shock at my own words, for he is looking at me strangely. His eyes are open, soft--not hard and irritated. They are looking directly into mine, and I know that he sees what I had hoped no man would ever see. The truth. He knows that I have spoken the truth to him.  
  
I lean away from him, and I open my mouth to speak. But I don't know what the fuck to say. I'm terrified. Stupid bitch, my mind screams at me, You've lost him now. I look away from his eyes, embarassed for the first time in years. I've made a fool of myself. But what is pressing against my spine? Fingers? A hand. Tasuki's hand?  
  
Suddenly I feel cool air blow through my hair, and I turn to see Nuriko sit down across from us. Her eyes are the size of dumplings, and a satisfied smirk is on her face.  
  
"Well hello there, Tansho," she replies, "So nice to see you again!" I don't know what to do. So I just smile back as genuinely as I can.  
  
"You know her?" Tasuki asks Nuriko, obviously shocked.  
  
"Oh, we're aquainted," Nuriko chimes, "And I see that you're aquainted with her now as well, Tasuki dear."  
  
I feel him tense, and whatever was on my back before Nuriko appeared is long gone. I feel a weight on my chest. I want it back--whatver it was.  
  
"Hello, Miss Nuriko," I finally address her. I feel Tasuki tense even more when he hears me speak. Then I turn to see him staring at me like I was a madwoman. Suddenly, his mouth is open in a guffaw of laughter, his fangs gleaming in the dim light of the tavern like jewels as he howls insanely.  
  
"Miss?!" he shreiks madly, "Miss!? Ahh-hahahaaaaa! Nuriko! --gasp- - she thinks you're a WOMAN!" I can feel his body convulsing under me as he shrieks with laughter, and my own body convulsing along with him. Smirking, I realize that he has totally forgotten where I'm sitting. Then my mind clears and I finally I register what he said. I turn around again to face Nuriko.  
  
"You mean...you're not a woman?" I ask innocently, slowly regaining the dignity I had lost earlier and attempting to ignore the continuing roar of Tasuki's laughter.  
  
"Hehhh...not exactly," Nuriko replies, pressing his palms to his face.  
  
"He's just a fuckin' cross-dresser!" Tasuki howls. Then he gets whacked in the head with an empty sake bottle.  
  
"Go fuck yourself!" Nuriko yells at him. I feel the need to leave so as not to get injured.  
  
"Perhaps I should go," I say slowly, shifting a little on Tasuki's lap, instantly causing him to shut up once he remembers where my body is situated. I stop momentarily and look into the green depths of his slanted eyes one last time. I lean into him and press my lips against his ear. My body turns to hide what I'm about to do from Nuriko's eyes. I slip my hand slowly and quietly between the clasps of his overcoat and untuck his soft shirt from the hold of his belt. I press my palm to the warm skin of his lower abdomen, feeling its firmness. He sucks in a deep breath at the direct contact but remains silent other than that. I lean my shoulder into the hollow between his upper arm and chest.  
  
I breathe in his scent. Rain and dirt. Earth. Fire, perhaps? I gently scratch him with my fingernails, but not enough to hurt him. I just want him to feel me there, underneath his clothes. I open my mouth and kiss his earring, then his earlobe. I feel the heat of his blush on my own cheek.  
  
"Come back soon," I whisper quietly, nothing more than a swirl of air in the warmth of his hair and neck. I pull my hand away from his stomach slowly, tuck his shirt back in, and smooth his coat down. I get up and saunter away, smiling to Nuriko and leaving Tasuki staring blankly at the place where I once was.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You know, this has to be one of my favorite chapters of "Tansho". She's evil isn't she? I know, I love her too. Will she keep leading him on, or will she make another move????  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
frenchiecangal: Oh yes I can!!! ^_^ But I'm anticipating a shit-load of school work after Thanksgiving break is over, so it may be a while before I can begin posted a couple of chapters a day.  
  
Emerin Mornlight: I'm very flattered...just please don't light a camp fire and burn you house down. ^_^  
  
shadow priestess: I'm applying to Georgia State University after I take the ACT this month and get the scores back.  
  
Nako-chan: Ah, so you've had some stories deleted as well?? Did FF give you a warning first? I'd really like to know to try to fine out what happened with me and my account. Oh and...*eyes the malicious-looking gerbils*...don't worry, I do plan on continuing if I can stay posted this time.  
  
RyogazGal: Thanks for the compliment!! Nope, no flames yet. But exactly what do these two go around flaming in the name of...bad OC's or OC's in general?  
  
Thanks all of you for your great reviews!!!! 


	5. The Delicate Warmth

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and all the other people of the Black Dove.  
  
Warning: Not very bad...just a few nasty words here and there. ^-^  
  
Chapter 5 The Delicate Warmth  
  
I go upstairs to my room. My heart is beating so fast that I fear I may be dying. And if I do die, I will die in my bed.  
  
I lie down, but I don't die. I stare at the canopy of my bed and wonder what compelled me to do such a thing. Never had I touched a man in such a way. Of course, I may rub a man's shoulders or run a finger over his lips, but never what I did to Tasuki--underneath his clothes. Never. Most of the men I've slept with were half-dressed the entire time!  
  
What the hell is happening to me?, my mind whispers.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***************************  
  
I look for him the next night, and when my eyes finally lock on him, I nearly collapse from relief. I grab the banister of the stair to hold myself upright, but Okichi sees my near-fall and she is soon so close to me that her perfume is suffocating me.  
  
"Are you ill, Tansho?" she chimes, her cream-colored hair floating around her plump body like bubbles. She reached her hands up and gingerly twists a section of her hair into a thick bun atop her head, then taking a ribbon from between her breasts and tying the bun into place. Her large eyes question me with much more than concern.  
  
"No," I answer quickly and too harshly, wondering if the little word is a lie. My eyes tear away from Tasuki, and I pray that she didn't see how hard it was for me. "I'm just tired."  
  
"Well, you have been on the floor more than the rest of us lately," she says, her eyes scouring the tavern for her next target. She frowns when Misa plops down in the lap of her favorite regular. "Why don't you stay in tonight? It would do you good." Her eyes return to me, and I smile.  
  
"I think I will," I answer. I realize that I need to stay away from him, even if just for one night. "Will you tell Shingen for me?"  
  
"Of course," she replies, patting my cheek, "Go rest now."  
  
I think that our conversation is over, but when she is half way down the stair, she turns. I see her eyes burning, and I take a step back, releasing my hold on the banister.  
  
"Don't think that we don't notice, Tansho," she whispers, "Because we do...we notice everything--you should know that." She pauses, and I know that it is only to make me lean towards her. "You will not win," she finally hisses. With those last words and a violent flip of her waist- length hair, she is gone, swallowed by the pungent smoke of the Black Dove.  
  
I can do nothing but stare. I knew that they would see when I was nestled in Tasuki's lap. I knew that they would talk amongst themselves like a flock of hens cackling. But I didn't think they would ever be so damn agressive. I know better than to confront them. Agressive whores are dangerous. This is common sense. But was it just the chance of a few extra months' pay that fueled them--or something else?  
  
So I do as she says--I take a rest. I return to my room and pray that I won't see him. But when I close my eyes, I see red. I see fire. And I want to kill him for what he is doing to me. Damn it! Damn him! I've known him for less than a week and his face is already burned into my mind. I press my fingers to my eyelids and rub vigorously. He vanishes like a fog and I sigh, half from relief and half from pure exhaustion.  
  
Distressed, I grab a wool shawl from my wardrobe, swing it heavily over my shoulders, and run. I race down the stairs, not daring to look in the direction of the tavern. I shove my bare feet into a pair of slippers at the back door and retreat into the fluctuating air of the city. One night it is like spring, the next like the middle of winter. This is the way it is in the south, and I thought that I was use to it by now. The freezing air pushes it's way under my flimsy shawl, and I realize that I'm not use to it at all.  
  
I slam the door behind me and run past the latrines to the wooden veranda at the entrance of the tavern, hoping for it to be empty. I need emptiness. I need silence. I need solitude. I need each one like I need the air. But the air is so cold that I feel my lungs will burst, though I have gone no farther than a few steps.  
  
I reach the veranda and find that the warm, dim glow of the lanterns cast their light on nothing but the rough wood. I sigh and press my back against the wall of the tavern, watching my breath create shapes before my eyes. I reach out to touch what appears to be a rose, but it whisps away at the contact with my warm skin. I can hear the sounds of drunkeness coming from the open doors of the tavern, but there are no people coming and going, and I am glad for this.  
  
I breathe in and out, cleansing my lungs like I would cleanse a dirty garment. But then I hear the sounds of footfalls, and I hold my breath and sink into the shadow of the veranda.  
  
Then the entire veranda is on fire as he steps out.  
  
"Damn him," I whisper. But when he turns his head, I know that I spoke too loudly. I press my back against the rough wooden wall and bend my head against my shoulder, but I know that I've been seen. Damn it all to hell.  
  
"You don't need to hide from me, ya' know," Tasuki replies calmly, turning his gaze back to the lights of the city.  
  
"I wasn't hiding from anything," I answer. I step out of the shadow even though my first impulse is to turn and run from him.  
  
I wonder if he remembers last night. I wonder if he is angry with me. He certainly couldn't have enjoyed it. He shooed the other whores away as if they were a swarm of flies--he would no doubt do the same to me. Wouldn't he?  
  
"Your name's Tansho?" he suddenly asks. I jump at the sound of his voice splitting the silence.  
  
"Yes," I answer, "How did you know my name?"  
  
"I should ask you the same damn thing!" he barks at me, crossing his arms over his black overcoat. But then I see in his face as he rethinks his words. "I overheard Nuriko the other night."  
  
"As did I," I say. He flings me a look of irritation, but doesn't reply.  
  
As the time creeps on in silence, I begin to shiver in the chilly air. I pull the shawl tighter around my bare chest; but, like a fool, I never think to pull my dress tighter around my body. As if reading my mind, he turns to me again.  
  
"You should put on more clothes if you're gonna stand out here in the cold," he remarks.  
  
"I'm fine," I lie, "It's not cold at all." He frowns, then smiks, then laughs.  
  
"And just what the fuck is so funny?" I ask menancingly, crossing my arms over my shawl to try to keep in more heat. I frown deeply at my outburst. I hadn't meant to be so malicious toward him.  
  
"You're just standing there freezing your ass off!" he answers in a mocking tone, walking across the veranda toward me. He unbuckles the belt that clasps his black overcoat, then begins working at the hooks of his coat. By the time he reaches me, he has shrugged it off his shoulders and is holding it in his hands. Instinctively, I move away, and he stops.  
  
"I'm not gonna throw it over ya' and kidnap ya' or anything," he replies calmly, though I can tell that he is obviously still annoyed with me, "Calm the hell down and come here."  
  
I do as he says and allow him to carefully drape the coat over my shoulders. His white cotton shirt gleams momentarily in the dim latern light, and the heat of his body cascades over me as he moves nearer to pull the coat tight over my back. It's heavy on my body, but the inside feels like a waterfall of warm water steaming down my back all the way to my feet. It reaches well past my calves, enveloping my entire body with heat. The scent of him wafes into my nostrils and I breathe in deeply. Suddenly, a glimer catches my eye and I look up at him.  
  
Two beaded necklaces, one blue and the other red, hang delicately from his neck. As I reach my hand up, my elbow brushes his ribs and he recoils a bit.  
  
"Ticklish, are we?" I tease as I gently grasp the longer necklace in my fingers. He merely grunts, but allows me to study the peice of jewelry. I allow myself one look into his eyes, and I am rewarded with him looking into mine.  
  
"Thank you," I say quietly as I finger his necklace. I feel my skin touch his every now and then as I carress the smooth orbs. From where my hand is on his chest, I can feel the strain of his heart under his breastbone. I have an inclination to lay my palm there, but I resist.  
  
I have to pull my hand away after only a minute. The heat of his body is almost scalding. My shivers have ceased, but my insides have only started. He is still close to me, my shoulder still in the valley of his side. His closeness helps to keep the cold away as well. I find myself wondering how it would feel to have that warmth on top of me--or inside of me. Then I gasp at my own thoughts and mentally slap myself. Once again, this man has awakened something new to me. Never before had I lusted in such a way--for a man, and not for his money. I actually feel ashamed. I want to go, but he speaks before I can even raise a foot.  
  
"Did you mean what you said last night?" he asks quietly. I wait. "About my earrings making me...even more beautiful...ya' know...?" I am shocked. My eyes roam madly, trying to find the words somewhere in the night air.  
  
"I'm not known to lie," I finally answer, though unsure of myself. I wonder if that was the right thing to say.  
  
I hear him clear his throat, and I know for sure that I have made a fool of myself all over again. I snap my eyes shut.  
  
"I should be going," I say quickly, having found the strength and nerve to speak.  
  
I glance up at him, then turn quickly and begin my trek to the back door.  
  
"Hey wait!" he calls from behind me. My heart stops. My blood scalds my veins. My eyes burn and my body begins to shake again. I cannot. I cannot--not even for four months' wages. If I do, then I'll never get away. I'll never escape him. I'll never be able to stop. But I turn anyway, and I face him, unafraid.  
  
"My coat," he says.  
  
Then the world goes cold around me once again.  
  
"Your coat," I repeat. My hands rise to my shoulders slowly and grab the collar of the black overcoat. "I'm sorry." I pull the warmth away from my body gingerly, instantly missing it. He takes it and pulls it back on, fastening the belt and smoothing it over his front. "Thank you," I say. Then I turn once again.  
  
But I feel fingers close on my arm. I am stopped in mid stride, and I fall backward. I feel that I will choke on my own heart. I feel him turning me around again. Yet again.  
  
Run, my mind screams at me, Run now, you fool. He'll capture you, and you know it. You'll never get free!  
  
But I feel the warmth of his hand on me, creating a ring of fire around my upper arm. It spreads to my chest and stomach, then to my womanhood and legs, until my feet are boiling as well. I want to slap him, to jerk my arm from his grasp, and run like a madwoman back into the tavern and up to my room. I can hide there. I can lock myself in and he'll never see me again for all of eternity.  
  
I can smell him now. I can feel pressure on my breasts, on my belly. I know that I am pressed against him, and I know that I am slowly being welded to his body. I feel a soft weight on my spine, just as I had before when I was in the valley of his lap. But I do nothing but stare at the dark wood of the veranda beneath my slippered feet. And I see his black boots next to my feet, and I know that I am too close to get away.  
  
Why? Why is he holding me like this? Just the night before he seemed to be disgusted by my presence...so why in Heaven and Hell is he holding me like this? More importantly, why am I allowing it?  
  
I look up. I look up and I see swamps staring back at me, as close to me as the air. The warmth of his breath is on my cheek, on my neck and ear, on my lips. He is like a drug. Like opium. His breath is like a thick smoke that I welcome into my lungs. Suffocate me. Drown me.  
  
I feel the warmth of his lips touch the corner of my mouth, delicately, slowly, as if he could shatter my face if he pressed too hard. He is moving down my throat now, to the hollow of my chest, then up the other side of my face to my jaw and ear. He doesn't kiss. No, it's more like a trail of moisture that he leaves behind. But then he kisses my earlobe, causing me to shudder violently in unexpected pleasure. I feel him move away momentarily.  
  
"That's what it feels like," he whispers near my mouth. My eyes are closed, but I can almost see his lips moving in front of me. Subconsciously, my face moves toward his voice, but I meet nothing but scortched air.  
  
A soft brush over my eyebrow, then my eyelid. Like the wings of a butterly, I think to myself. He is hovering at the edge of my mouth again, teasing me mercilessly.  
  
I open my eyes wide, and I stare at him. If this is the way it has to be, then it will not be wasted.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Oh, what will she do...what will she do, Oh God?!!? Will Tansho take the chance for the money, or wait just a little longer...Aaaahhhh...the suspense!!!  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
frenchiecangal: I read your bio over the weekend..and you're French Canadian!! Ah, now your pen name makes sense *grins*. Anyways, I'm so sorry that the updates are goign slower than I promised. I'm falling farther and farther behind and I know it!! waaaahhh!! Even with the Thanksgiving break from school I've still been exhausted and end up sleeping all afternoon instead of doing homework and posting new chapers. I'll try to speed up soon! ^_^  
  
shadow priestess: I have yet to check out the curriculum of Georgia State (I haven't even visited the campus yet!!! And my application is due in March! I'm so beind!!) But I do plan on majoring in Creative Writing, and avoiding all Math classes that can possibly be avoided!! ^_^  
  
Kitty Lynne: Hello dear friend! I got your last e-mail and I'll try my best to reply soon, OK?! I've had a bad e-mail encounter with Roku that's left me quite dazed and confused (not to mentione pissed off!), and I'm in dire need of some advice concerning her and a few other things. As for my fic...thank you so much for your compliments on Nuriko and the interactions between Tansho and Tasuki. And, yes, I did remember how you got a bit upset over my description of Chichiri and decided to remove it. When I re- read it while editing, I did realize how genuinely inconsiderate it was of Chishiri fans like yourself. Thanks again for all the wonderful compliments!!  
  
Emerin Mornlight: Just remember what I said about the camp fire, ans don't start roasting those marshmallows.  
  
Torrent: Thanks so much!!! ^_^  
  
RyogazGal: That's very unfortunate about those flamers. How rude!! Do they right OC's themselves...'cause if they haven't, they need to try it. Or pehaps they have, and happen to think that theirs are the only acceptable ones. *scowls at OC flamers...wherever they may be* As for the help you requested concerning the paragraphs. *snickers* Don't worry, I had that problem too when I first posted on FF. In my case, it was on account of the paragraphs I had in my original documents that I uploaded from. In my documents, I had only single-spaced my paragraphs (like most writing in books or magazines), but I found out by way of a friend who had been on FF for awhile that by simply spacing your paragraphs further apart (double or triple spacing, depending on the effect you want)...it separates them out when they're uploaded onto FF. That should solve your problem, but contact me if you need more help OK?!  
  
Thanks again for all the reviews everyone!!! Love and hugs!!! ^_^ 


	6. You Pitiful Little Fool

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and all the other people in the Black Dove.  
  
Chapter 6 You Pitiful Little Fool  
  
I trail my fingers up his black coat, allowing my palm to linger over his heart. It is beating wildly, like a caged animal. Then I think to myself that it is, in fact, caged behind his ribs. I move on upward to the collar of his coat, to his beaded neckalces. I curl my arms around his neck and press myself harder against him.  
  
One time, my mind whispers, Only this one time.  
  
I slip my fingers into his hair and pull his face down to mine. His eyes shine like gold encrusted emeralds, and I almost want to cry. I want to fall apart in his hands, his arms, against him, and have him put me back together. But I smile gently, sweetly, as any woman would. I linger over his mouth like a dragonfly over a pond.  
  
No! Run! my mind whispers again, It's you last chance. You won't be able to leave him if you don't go now. Now. Now!  
  
I press my cheek to his and wrap my arms tighter around his shoulders. I cannot do what I want to do so badly. Without warning, I begin to sob into his chest. I weep like an abandoned child. I weep like a fool.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asks, holding me closer, tighter.  
  
I squeeze my eyes shut. Now. Now. Run, Tansho. I hug him tightly to me like he were a treasure that I could never release. This man. This fire-haired man has done far too many things to me. He is doing things to me even as my mind speaks. He awakens too much, and allows too little to remain sleeping. I must go now. I must leave him behind.  
  
I am a whore. A harlot. A prostitute, if you are ignorant of the other words for what I am. A woman who sleeps with men in exchange for money. I almost kissed a man out of nothing less than love. For that, I should die the death of a traitor. For that, I must get away. Now.  
  
I reach between my breasts and feel the hot metal of the coin that I took from his pocket the night before. I grasp it between my fingers and slip it from the warmth of my breasts.  
  
I suddenly feel my belly on fire. I feel myself burning, and I feel myself hardening inside. I will not give him up. I have claim just as a whore should have claim. But do I want the money...or the man? Perhaps both? Either way, I will have him. All I have to do is touch him and I can make him mine. All I have to do is speak and he'll fall before me like a wounded animal begging for my mercy. I am not a weak fool. I will not let the other women win him--and the money. I will get what I want. I pinch my eyes closed to stop the foolish tears from flowing. In moments, they dry up like a river bed in drought season.  
  
You're a fool, Tansho, my mind tells me. You pathetic little fool. Crying over a man for no goddamn reason. You're a whore, girl. Do as your trade demands.  
  
I feel the power of a harlot surge within me again, and I smile.  
  
"No," I whisper, His body tenses. His body. His warm body. Still so close.  
  
"What?" he asks, confused.  
  
"You should go now," I whisper, pain no longer leaking from my lips.  
  
No, I whisper madly to myself, You know it, don't you Tansho? You can feel it like you can feel his body pressed agaisnt you. You don't give a shit about the money. Hell, you don't even care about fucking him. You want him for only one reason. Love. You love him, and you're angry...because you don't understand it. And yet you know it.  
  
I remove my arms from him, and push myself from his chest slowly, relishing the tension in his arms, not wishing to let me go. I reach out my hand for his, moist and hot from holding me, and press the coin into his palm. He looks hurt for almost a moment. So, Tasuki, my mind whispers menicingly, you say you don't like women? Why do you look as if you could die now? I feel the heat of the power in my veins, scalding me. I am ashamed of myself, for being so naive before, so soft, so pitiful.  
  
"Tansho?" he whispers, slowly reaching for me again.  
  
Slowly, I move towards him again, taking in the look of his eyes, the way his body is tense. I take his hand in mine and curl his fingers over the coin. I lean into him as I did the first time I touched him. I bring my mouth close to his ear and wet my lips, knowing that he can feel the breath of my lungs.  
  
"Go now," I whisper slowly, "But don't stay gone too long." I squeeze his hand in mine as I move away from him again. He looks at the coin in his hand, then at me, a question on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"When I touched you that first time by the latrines..." I explain simply. His eyes widen. "I took it...as an early payment, I guess you could say." His face goes blank at those words.  
  
I step back up to him yet again. I am entoxicated by the way I have bewitched him. He is no longer the cool yet boisterous beauty who draws the eyes of women yet keeps them well away. He was so stubborn those first few times I saw him, his eyes so hard. But when our eyes lock, I see that I have softened him. I feel pride, and I feel lust. I lean into him again and touch him as I did that very first time, pressing my palm firmly to his stomach. He tenses again, just as he did before. It is obvious to me now that no woman has ever touched him before--at least not as I have.  
  
"But I don't require payment from you," I say, "You are far too beautiful..." I move my hand down his stomach and allow it to linger just above his manhood, my fingers barely touching him. "And I just want you far too much...to make you pay for me."  
  
I pull away only to press my lips to the corner of his mouth, torturing him as he did me. I feel a want to trail my hand farther down to the junction of his legs, but I am wise enough to wait. He is still not sure of himself. Nor am I. I turn from him, knowing that now is when to leave.  
  
Yes, he will be mine. He will come to me, and only to me.  
  
Suddenly, I cannot walk. I try to lift my feet, but they are as heavy as logs. My head swims as I try to move. I see only blackness, and I feel only humidity. I feel like I am being suffocated.  
  
What in the hell...  
  
I cannot stand. I cannot hold my body against such a thing. It is like a war. A fierce war, with blood and steel strangling and impaling me. I feel myself falling, and I try to stand straight, by the gods, I do try. But I am too heavy. My hair flails like a spider's web as I fall, down, and into something. Warmth. And softness.  
  
Arms are around me, one under the curve of my spine, the other in the crook of my knees. I feel softness against my cheek, and I breathe in dirt and fire. I open my eyes and see him.  
  
I wonder if I am dying. Has the years of opening myself to any man with a gold coin finally diseased my body beyond healing? It is strange. Strange how I was so powerful only a moment ago, and now am only a limp child in the arms of a man. A man who I know nothing about. Nothing other than the curve of the muscles beneath the skin of his abdomen. Nothing but the taste of sake on his breath. Nothing but the heat he awakens in the valleys of my body.  
  
But I care not. He is holding me. Perhaps I do love him. Perhaps he loves me. If a whore can be loved and love in return, surely she would be me. Surely I am her.  
  
But why the hell did I act in a such a way? To suddenly change from a confused and timid child into an unknown and frightening creature. It was as if my soul was replaced with another. A malicious soul. A power- hungry soul. A soul set on devouring and taking for itself. A bewitching soul. What is wrong? What happened?  
  
I scowl to myself in anger. I am a fool. There was no malignant soul. No unearthly creature. I was simply being awakened by my own common sense. The sense of an aged whore. But why is Tasuki being so kind to me, after I did the verbal equivalent of slapping him in the face? Why is he still holding me so gently?  
  
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I don't know how in the hell he found my room. All I know is that I sit here now, propped up by mounds of pillows in my satin bed. And he is there, sprawled out in a chair by my bedside. His arms are draped over the arm rests, and his legs are spread out and twisted like tree roots. His mouth is open in a boisterous and never-ending snore so loud that I fear he will wake the souls of the long dead--or Shingen. Any moment now, Koi, Okichi, or any of the other women could come barging in, ranting about a farmer they had last night with breath so bad it could drop birds from the sky. Or Shingen could burst through, throwing the double doors open like simply tearing a peice of parchment down the middle, wanting to know what ails me so much that I stayed off the floor--and cost him good money because of it. But I wait, and no one comes in. The only sound is Tasuki's snoring, and my labored breath.  
  
May the gods damn me. Hell, and him too, while they're at it. Why? Why did I crumble like some pathetic little bitch? I am so ashamed of myself. Me, who has been beneath the slithering, moist bodies of hundreds of men. Me, who has come away from those men with eyelids so swollen they've split down the middle, with blood pouring like a waterfall from my nostrils. Me, a whore, hard from her years.  
  
You are a pitiful little fool of a girl, and nothing more, my mind taunts.  
  
I should have cut it's throat from the very beginning, this damn feeling. It can only be one thing. One thing. The one thing that I can't have. And why the fuck do I want it so much? What does it bring but pain?  
  
I guess that Okichi was right, when she said that I needed a rest. Maybe that's why I fainted like a pitiful little maid, worked beyond her limit. Or was it because of something else? I scowl. I am so disgusted at myself. Not only for fainting, but also for the way I was before I found my whore's senses again I was so weak. So weak. What was I doing? Why did I do it? What could cause such a thing to crush me so?  
  
I shrug it off. It doesn't matter an ounce now. I am the way I was before. Strong, even though others may see it as obstinate. My head is where it belongs. High. Not drooping like a dead duck's.  
  
He is still snoring. I fling the linens from my lap and climb out of my bed.  
  
Why him? What did he have that I've never seen before? Many men have come into this tavern, and come and gone from where I have lain. But none--none--have moved me so. Might he be what my mother once told me I would find? A man just for me and no other woman. A man connected to me by the strings of fate. A man separated from all the other men. Or was that all just a tale? Another lie to add to all of the others that have been fed to me? Or could I make him what I wanted him to be? Could I still win my four extra months' wages--with my conscience still intact? Or do I dare to tell him--and myself--the truth? Money doesn't matter. But do I want only his body...and nothing more?  
  
I walk towards him quietly, though I doubt that even if I scream, his comatose state will not alter. So he brought me here, to my room? He actually carried me in his arms. So that was the warmth I felt.  
  
I touch the fire of his hair delicately. I slip it through my fingers, and I feel chills even though it's not the first time it and I have made contact. I trace his hairline with my fingertips. I wonder if he knew where to go, or if he had to wander from room to room until he recognized my scent or the atmosphere of my presence.  
  
He stirs and I pull my hand away quickly. I have to get him out of here. If he is found in my room, where not even the paying customers are allowed, Shingen will throw me to the jungle of the city to be devoured. And what of Tasuki? He would no doubt share my fate. But by the looks of him and the nights he spends in the tavern, tossing coins like nail clippings, he has a place to go. I have the street. No, he must go now, for both of us. But would he return, as I asked of him?  
  
I lay a hand lightly on the bulk of his shoulder and move it back and forth quickly, causing his entire body to quake beneath my palm. But he simply snorts loudly and rolls onto his side in the chair. I reach my hand up to his face and slap his cheek softly, but there is no response. I slap a little harder, yet he only turns his face away. Pissed off from wasting my time while trying to save both our asses from Shingen, I fling my hand over my head and bring it down hard on his face. He flails in shock like a dying bird and thrusts his arms out, nearly hitting me. A frightened and shocked cry errupts from his mouth.  
  
"What the fuck...!?" he howls, planting his hand drunkenly over the already developing red spot on his cheek. I seal his mouth with my hand, but it is no use. I hear the footsteps. Already. I hear the voices of the harlots trailing down the hall, toward my room. The bitches are fast.  
  
I grab Tasuki by the collar of his overcoat and pull him out of the chair as hard as my body will allow. But it is too much force; and, instead of turning and pushing him onto my bed, his body is too heavy and connects with mine, landing us both on the satin sheets. I can hear the voices outiside my room now. In sheer panic I kick the linens with my feet, pushing our bodies all the way onto the bed. I reach up and pull both sides of the satin curtain that conceals my bed closed. Tasuki and I are plunged into darkness as the morning light is shut away from us. I hear the doors open. I see his eyes widen in the darkness at the sound. He looks at me with concern and surprisement, and I press my hand over his lips to tell him to keep silent.  
  
Tasuki's weight is so heavy on me that I cannot draw a breath. His body is flat on top of mine, and my hand is pressed flat to his lips. I beg him with my eyes to shift so that I can breathe--and to stay silent. He sees my plea and lifts himself to his elbows, supporting his weight. But I keep my fingers over his mouth, just to stay safe.  
  
"Ok..." I hear Misa's confused voice, "Am I going crazy? I just heard a man yell from in here." I hear shuffling and the sound of fabric moving againt fabric as the women move around my room. "Okichi? Are you sure that you didn't hear that? Damn it...I could have sworn..."  
  
"Would you please shut the hell up?" Asako's voice screeches in annoyance, "Okichi said that Tansho was ill. She probably went to the Healer down the street..." I hear her voice trail away. I pray that she is leaving.  
  
"I didn't see her leave..." I hear Koi say, but the rest of her words fade as the door slams shut again.  
  
I sigh, thanking the gods that they didn't fling the curtains from my bed to find me there, with Tasuki of all people, on top of me. I laugh in my heart. That would have stirred the shit, but I would have gotten the four months' extra wages at least.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well, Tansho's feelings are being revealed in depth. Does she love him? If she does, why all the guilt? Poor Tansho. And poor Tasuki...will they get caught?  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
frenchiegal: I've recently been informed of something that might interest you since you're French Canadian. The day before yesterday my senior class had a meeting with our principal to discuss our senior trip in March. Turn's out...we're going to Canada! Yep, to Toronto, Monteal, and Quebec City! I'm so excited 'cause from the video we say, everything up there looks absolutely beautiful!! Just curious...which province (that's what they're called righ? ^_^) do you live in? In reply to your review...thank you again for the lovely compliments! And thanks for understanding how slow I'm going with the updates ^_^.  
  
Kitty Lynne: Thanks for your e-mail!! You made me feel alot better ^_^ Now, on to your review...thanks for the compliments on the chapter titles! I never know what I'm going to write in a chapter, so I always wait until I'm done then go back and skim through for a fitting title. I'm very pleased with how well they seem to fit their chapters, and I'm glad to know you do as well! As for our dear Tasuki and all his wonderful characteristics (both good and bad), I didn't have to try too hard to keep him character for some reason. I guess I had memorized him down to the last cuss word from reading the manga and watching the anime so much. Although I sometimes feel that he slips from character every now and then when with Tansho in some future chapters, I soon realize that he actually has a reason to. Men in love can sometimes be very fickle when it comes to their normal behaviour. I always tried to keep that in mind. And as for the delectable sexual tension that you mentioned you liked so well--that's my greatest weapon in this fic!! ^_^  
  
Emerin Mornlight: Your reviews are hilarious and never cease to make me laugh! And don't worry about being all eloquent in your reviews...just so long as you're still enjoying reading my fic. That's all that matters to me! ^_^  
  
shadow priestess: Oh good lord, if Math ruled the world *Iseult suddenly collapses dead on the floor for no apparant reason*...that's where'd I be for sure! ^_^ I've just sucked at Math since I was a kid, and exceled at English...so I kinda took the hint when deciding on a life career. Good luck though if you decide to major in Math! And dont' worry about being a certian age to read "Tansho". If you're comfy in reading it, that usally means you're mature enough to read it.  
  
RyogazGal: It's good to rant!! Don't feel bad about doing it. It's human nature to express your feelings in complaints. I sure as hell never feel bad about it (as my friends know all too well ^_^). And as Kitty Lynne advised me...just ignore anything that's directed at you, and tell your friend to do the same. Never dwell on what other's think of you! And in response to the second half of your review...I always try my best to add every emotion I can to my lemons instead of simply sex. I've realized that those make the best lemons! ^_^  
  
Torrent: Thanks again for the compliments!!  
  
  
  
Thanks to all my reviewers!! Love and hugs for everyone!!! ^_^ 


	7. The Promise of Fire

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and all the other people of the Black Dove.  
  
Chapter 7 The Promise of Fire  
  
He shifts against me again, and my insides move at the burning contact. I hear an uncomfortable noise escape his lips. I wonder what is wrong, then I feel the thick fabric of his coat on the inside of my thighs, and I realize that I have wrapped my legs around his waist. It is out of habit on my part, perhaps it is instinct by now.  
  
It pleases me--the way he is. One moment he can be pressed agaisnt me, running his lips over my body as if it were the most natural thing to do; then he can be paralyzed by mere contact with my body. He is unpredictable, and I find myself arroused by it.  
  
I smile in the darkness, and I know that he sees. I take my hand from his mouth, but not completely. I keep contact with my forefinger, running it slowly over the smoothness of his lips. He reacts shyly, averting his eyes and moving his face from mine, diminshing the contact I had with his mouth. His eyes are only a few inches from mine, and no matter how hard he tries to hide himself, I will be able to see him.  
  
I squeeze my thighs tighter, trapping him between my legs. He gasps as I move my knees higher up his body, past his waist and to his sides. I slowly and carefully place a finger on his mouth again, hoping he won't move away from it. When he doesn't, I press my finger harder agaisnt his lips, parting them gently. My fingertip trails silently over the moisture of his clenched teeth. I slowly work it farther into his mouth to rub one of his little fangs, remembering when I was in his lap that first time, both of my hands literally shoved into his mouth. My own lips part in a sly grin of amusement at the memory; one that will never leave me.  
  
When I am sure that he is becoming more and more relaxed by my touch, I awaken my other hand and move it firmly over his shoulder to his back, pressing it gently into the curve his spine. I run my fingertips over the valleys on either side of his backbone, feeling his muscles clench and relax under my hands.  
  
Suddenly, he begins to move. His arms are no longer quiet at our sides, they are next to my head, supporting his body over me, keeping him from crushing me. One dissapears from my veiw, and then I feel the heat of his palm pressed to my ribs. He pulls my body up, off the bed, to meet his. He slips his hand beneath me to keep me from pulling away. I remove my hand from his mouth and wrap it firmly around his neck to support myself.  
  
I am so tempted to kiss him. I could do it now, for there is nothing but air between our mouths. But I don't. I just look at him and laugh out loud at how serious he looks.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asks, speaking to me for the first time since he came to my bed. His hold on my back weakens noticeably, showing his discomfort at my reaction. His eyebrows meet.  
  
I place my hands on his face to reassure him, gently tracing his lips with my thumbs.  
  
"Don't look so sad and serious," I answer, smiling sweetly. I press my cheek to his and kiss his earlobe. His body shivers slightly and he sucks in a mouthful of air. I then feel his hold on me strengthen, as if the contact could stop his convulsions.  
  
"Why do you do that?" he asks almost breathlessly when I look at him again.  
  
I kiss his ear again, causing the shivers to instantly return. I grin into his warm shoulder. "That's why," I answer. I don't know if he smiles or frowns, for I am already untangling myself from him. He must leave now. The other women will return soon.  
  
"You should leave," I say, gently working my body out from beneath his. I am sorry to leave his warmth behind on my bed, but I know that it is better for him to go.  
  
"Leave?" he asks, moving to his side so that I can get up more easily.  
  
I see that his hands have been at work without my noticing; the sash of my gown is hanging loose. I pull it tight and re-tie it, wondering if it really was him or our moving around that undid it. I give him an accusing look anyway, curling a corner of my lip upward in a smirk.  
  
"They'll come back in a while. And Shingen will call all of us down soon," I say.  
  
He pauses while his eyes roam over me. Casting his gaze to the ground he rolls off the other side of the bed and comes around the foot to where I am standing. He straightens his clothes, smoothing his black overcoat over his body. He seems disappointed at my interuption, but I say nothing about it. I notice his sheath lying in the chair he slept in the night before. I pick it up by the golden strap and study it over rather quickly before holding it towards him. I'm disappointed that I'm still unable to discern what type of weapon he carries.  
  
"I don't think you want to leave this behind," I reply, holding it further out to him. He reaches to take it, but I pull it to my chest just as his fingers graze the golden strap. His eyes question me, but not fiercely.  
  
"I'll give it to you on one condition," I say, taking small steps toward him as I so love to do, "If you promise to come back tonight...I'll give it to you...."  
  
He smiles at me unexpectedly, letting his fangs gleam like a wolf's. I am glad that he realizes that I mean not to part from him perminantly. "I promise," he says without hesitation. I hand it out to him again, and he takes it. I feel his fingers stroke mine as I hand over the strange object he protects so well. I know that I have awakened this man. Perhaps I will be the first woman he doesn't hate. Perhaps I have cured him of his hatred toward my gender.  
  
"See you tonight then," I reply, cocking my head to the side and giving him yet another smile.  
  
He turns and leaves quickly, heeding my warning about Shingen and the other women. He is gone now, but his warmth has saturated the air of my room. And I know that it will never leave.  
  
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I wait for him tonight as I have waited before, but there is something different now. I have his promise that he will come, and that changes everything that I have ever known in this place. A man has never promised to come to me. That is just not the way things work in a brothel, and I am aware of it.  
  
I find myself walking differently among the men in the tavern as I wait. I keep distance between myself and my customers when Shingen's eyes are elsewhere; but when he looks, I step closer to them, though not as close as the other nights. I no longer look in their eyes to entice them to come upstairs with me. I no longer touch them so boldly. But I must touch them somewhat, and I must speak to them. And, ultimately, I know that I will be forced to look in their eyes when they are pressed above my body, or being stradled by my thighs. But not right now. Right now, I am waiting for a promise to be fulfilled.  
  
I am relieved when he finally comes and seats himself at a table close to where I roam. He is alone, and I want to think that I know why. He understands his own need of solitude in order to be comfortable around me. I retreat to the back to fetch a pitcher of sake for him. I shrug my gown off my shoulders and release my dark hair from the ribbons that bound it in two buns atop my head. I feel its coolness blanket my bare shoulders as I walk to his table, pitcher and cups in hand.  
  
His eyes are wandering as I quietly place my burden at the edge of the table and sneak behind him. I cup my palm on the back of his neck, feeling the heat meet the coolness. He jumps at the sudden contact, and I laugh.  
  
"Now, now," I reply, "Don't get jumpy." He smiles at me, remembering the words from before.  
  
I slide my fingers up into his hair, ruffling it deliberately. After seeing the unamused expression on his face, I slide into the chair across from him, but scoot it closer under concealment as I adjust my gown over my legs. I feel a need to be close to him. He seems to notice, but only reaches for the sake' and pours some in a cup, which he then hands to me. I take it, but wait until he pours some for himself before drinking.  
  
"Here's to promise-keepers," I say as I lift my cup and drain it. He seems surprised at the easy empty on my part and his eyes show it.  
  
"Oh!" I laugh, "Don't tell me you've never known a woman to like a cup of sake'!"  
  
"Only a few," he answers, "But none so proud as you." I smile at his comment and refill my cup.  
  
Our speech cannot run long without interuption, for I must get up every so often to serve customers more food and drink, or else face Shingen. I soon find that I must do my duties as a harlot as well, for my customers soon find only boredom in their sake' and talk. I go and come from the rooms upstairs many more times than I would like to in a single night, and I see Tasuki's eyes avert from me each time I return. I frown, but say nothing. I only restart our conversation as smoothly as we both will allow, and soon the sake' has drowned out the tension from our voices and actions. But even though the smoothness has returned to our words, I wonder if it truly does bother him, my leaving to be with other men. Paying men; my customers.  
  
His eyes never relax, even though the night begins to run long and pitchers of sake' come and go from the back of the tavern more frequently than when he first arrived. I cannot feel tension; the emotion radiating from him is more like nervousness. But his actions are anything but nervous.  
  
I laugh with him, something that I have faked with many men before. But I find that this laughter is pure, and the realization makes me even more entoxicated. And I laugh harder.  
  
"Forgive me, Master Tasuki," I laugh, "But I do believe that I am drunk."  
  
He chuckles along with me for a moment, then quiets. "You don't have to call me that, ya' know."  
  
My giggling stops as I look up to meet his eyes. "What? 'Master'?"  
  
"No," he answers, shaking his head, causing his red and orange hair to flail, " I mean 'Tasuki' ."  
  
My eyes narrow in confusion, the sake' bottle poised in the air over my empty cup. I refrain from refilling and set the pitcher down. " 'Tasuki' ?" I reply, my voice drowned in questioning, "But isn't that your name?"  
  
"Actually...no, it's not," he answers. Then I see the expression on his smooth face change as he rethinks his answer. "Well, yes...here, it's my name. But where I'm from, I'm called by another name."  
  
"Oh," I reply, "Well, what is you true name then?"  
  
"Genro."  
  
"Genro," I repeat. I like the sound of that name, but it doesn't seem like a given name from parents; more like a nickname. But I say none of this. "And you say that you aren't from the capital? Where, then?"  
  
"The Koshu Taito province," he replies, "I was born at the foot of Mount Reikaku."  
  
My breath stops for a moment, and I pray that he doesn't see. My mind is instantly and unexpectadley flooded with images of my home. My parent's house. My sister. My brothers. My mother and father. I remember the mountain. We lived in a small city at its base, and I could see it from our garden. All of these images berate my head mercilessly without warning, and I begin to panic inside. I seal my lips with my fingers to keep from crying out. I set the empty cup down on the rough, wooden table, and press all ten of my fingers to my mouth. I pray again and again that Tasuki is too drunk to see my reaction, but I know that it is too obvious, and I feel like a fool yet again.  
  
"Tansho?"  
  
I cannot see the tavern, him, or even my own hands in front of my face. I see my mother's body and I feel the heavy weight of my brother in my arms. I hear the weeping of my younger siblings and I see the cold, hurt stare of my father.  
  
I feel sudden warmth on my hands, and instinct tells me to recoil. I feel Tasuki's fingers release mine as I pull away with a quick jerk of my body.  
  
I see my sister and brothers lined up like dolls, all looking at me. My youngest brother hangs onto his only remaining sister as I move farther and farther away from them. They weep, but I do not know if my father does. His head is lying in his hands, hiding his guilty eyes from me.  
  
I open my eyes, and I see light and hear the drunken sounds of men and the shrill laughs of the other whores.  
  
"Tansho?" I hear Tasuki repeat, "Are you sick?"  
  
I glance down and see that his hand is over both of mine, patting them and trying to pull them away from my lips to try to wake me up. I look straight ahead and see his eyes staring at me, worry flooding the strange greenish gold of his irises. I slowly pull my hand from his grasp again, and rub my temples to dissolve the images in my mind. I sigh in relief when they are gone, but my heart cries out as the memories are ripped open like scabbed over wounds.  
  
"Damn it," I whisper.  
  
"What's wrong?" Tasuki asks. But I only shake my head, and feel my mind sramble for an excuse.  
  
"Headache," I quickly lie.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So what's the deal with Tansho's flashback? Just to warn you ahead of time, its not explained until quite a while later on in the story, so don't forget about it, OK?  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Faeriesinger: Thank you so much!  
  
Emerin Mornlight: Hee hee, well if he didn't sleep heavy, what fun would that scene be? ^_^  
  
frenchiecangal: Oops! Sorry 'bout that! I didn't mean to assume! *does a little bow* Please do forgive! ^_^ As for my upcoming trip, I just hope I can help my parents pay for the thing! It's going to cost them nearly $1400!!! *faints and falls to the floor*  
  
RyogazGal: Yes, Tansho's past will be revealed in depth in later chapters (though it will be in MUCH later chapters and will require quite a bit of a wait). Sorry. And, yes to your other comment...Tansho is still very unsure of herself even if she appears to have control. But things will work in her favor very soon.  
  
shadow priestess: Yep, very confused Tansho *sniff*  
  
Jenesis Dark: You know, when I first started writing this fic, I had no idea how unliked Mary Sue's were (I had no idea that was the name for 'em) All I knew was that I didn't like them too much myself and was going to be damned before I wrote about one. But like I told an earlier reviewer, I've had a bunch of practice with OC's and also with first person (I think I've only written one story without using the first person). So I was confident that Tansho would turn out like I hoped she would. I'm glad to know that she did! ^_^  
  
Adriana1210: *glomps onto Adriana and has to be pulled off by force* Oh, I'm so happy you're back! You have no idea how much I've missed your great reviews. You've always been so honest with me, and also very insightful and to-the-point. I have a great respect for you and am thrilled that you're reading again! And I'm very honored to be one of the few authors you admire *blushes* Thank you so much, and thanks for giving my fic another chance. As for your comment on Nuriko and his little outburst, I respect all opinions of my reviewers and never try to debate them. Although I would admit (now that I really think about it) that it was a bit OCC on his part. And yes, I decided for the sake of myself and my readers to edit my chapters to comform to the "R" rating (even though some friends of mine prefer that I keep the lemon scenes the same). It's hard for an author to please all of her readers, but I do and will try my very best.  
  
P.S. to you Adriana...would you mind if I e-mailed you privately? I have a question to ask that I would prefer not to post on FF.  
  
To all my reviewers...a big hug and big THANKS!!!! 


	8. The Iron Fan

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or any of the characters, but I do own Tansho and all the other people of the Black Dove.  
  
Warning: The alcohol really sets in the last part of this chapter, so naturally the eloquence of the character's dialogue will diminish and will be quickly replaced with strong vulgarity. ^_^ Basically, a lot of "f*ck's".etc.!! Enjoy! ^_^  
  
Chapter 8 The Iron Fan  
  
"I'm drunk," I say, "I should be numb to a damn headache." I rub at my temples, then press my fingertips between my eyes. My rubbing soon produces the actual beginnings of a real headache, so I stop.  
  
"Maybe you should go lie down?" Tasuki tries, resting his forearms on the table and leaning toward me.  
  
"No," I quickly reply, "We're having too much fun." I grin at him, then lean on the table as well, aware of my breasts straining against the loose fabric of my gown. I may be drunk, but my goal is still hot on my mind. I search his face for any sign that he is aware of my assets as well. His eyes show his drunkenness; they're unfocused. I laugh at my own drunken foolishness. His eyes suddenly awaken and I see him question me with them.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asks, removing his elbows from the table and resuming his previous position, arm slung over the back of the chair and opposite hand resting on his thigh. I feel my stomach tighten as I realize how alluring his body language is.  
  
"Nothing," I say, answering his question. "You ask me that too much..." For a while I thought my desires for him might have quenched; it would be best, for him as well for me. But no. He had to make himself appear beautiful, had to make my mind and my heart flare. All my thoughts about that word come rushing back. That goddamned word. Love. I smile a sad yet determined smile.  
  
Hey! I think, Don't get upset! You of all people should know how to fuck without loving. That's your trade, you silly chit!  
  
"Well," he protests, "You're always laughing at me..."  
  
I ignore his last comment and settle back in my chair. I am interested in him, his life, who he really is. "So tell me more about yourself," I ask him, cocking my head.  
  
"What do you want to know?" he retorts.  
  
"Anything," I answer truthfully, "Any family? Any occupation?"  
  
He grins at the mention of the last word, and I wonder why. "Family," he repeats, "Yeah, I have family. A Ma, a Pa, and five older sisters."  
  
"Five?!" I cry. He nods almost pitifully, but seems somewhat proud of it. "You poor thing, no wonder you hate women." He scowls at me.  
  
"Who says I hate women?"  
  
"Well, Nuriko told me that you weren't too fond of my gender. Is he incorrect?" I ask.  
  
"Well, not really. Women just get on my nerves; I don't really hate them. They're high-maintenance and moody. Or maybe just my sisters are; maybe there are women out there who are not obsessed with their hair and clothes and men..." He seems hopeful, and I hate to burst his bubble. "Not to mention the damn trouble they can get you into."  
  
"There may be a couple who wouldn't," I say encouragingly. "So, what did you do at Mount Reikaku? Are you a farmer, a blacksmith...a tavern master, perhaps?" I smile and he smiles back.  
  
"Actually, I was a thief."  
  
I shoot him a skeptical look. "A thief? Are you serious?" I ask, leaning towards him. He nods and I lift my eyebrows. "Wow," is all I can say.  
  
"I am the leader of a group of thieves to be exact," he continues, "I didn't get to be leader very long, though, before I had to leave to come here. And before that, I was kinda' on my own. I had gone away for a while, and when I got back, I discovered that the old boss had died and that some asshole and taken over the group. I later found out that the old boss had wanted me to be his heir, so I beat up the imposter and took back what was rightful mine. But less than a day later, I left the position to my right hand man, and came here."  
  
"Why did you have to leave?" I ask.  
  
"I can't really tell you that," he answers, "Sorry..."  
  
"Oh, that's okay," I assure him, "You hardly know me after all." I try not to appear hurt by his refusal; I spoke the truth after all. He doesn't know me. I don't know him. Or at least not yet.  
  
My eyes wander to his shoulder, where the mystery silver object pokes out. My eyebrows meet as I get out of my seat and walk around the table to stand in front of him. He looks up at me in surprise, but I avert my eyes to the weapon behind him. I still have no idea what the damn thing is.  
  
Before I realize what I am doing, my legs are straddling him and my thighs are wrapped tightly around his hips. He reacts as he did before when I sat in his lap, only this time his actions are slowed by the amount of sake pooled in his body. I position myself slightly above him, moving my right leg upward to allow my shin to rest on his thigh, nudging his hand away to give me room. I lean an elbow on his shoulder, nudging the hard curve of his coat slightly.  
  
"Uhhh, what are you doing?" he asks groggily. I laugh at the slowness of his words.  
  
"Oh, Tasuki dear, don't tell me that you're drunk too!! Don't get nervous, just looking!" I laugh, my body rocking against him with each breath. "Oh," I gasp, realizing that I didn't use his other name, "Would you like it better if I called you 'Genro'?" I smile and press into his warm chest alluringly. Even though I've done it many times before, his body against mine still causes my womanhood to quake in desire.  
  
"No," he answers, "You can call me what you want. I don't really care." He fumbles for his cup and brings it to his mouth, draining it in one toss.  
  
"Good!" I chime, "But tell me something..." His eyebrows rise in encouragement as he sets the cup on the table again. I am enjoying how comfortable he has become with me nestled in his lap. He seems to enjoy our position as much as I do.  
  
"Why are you called 'Tasuki' here? Couldn't people here call you by your true name?"  
  
I feel his body tense violently as he shifts beneath me. I move with him, surprisement at his sudden uncomfort evident on my flushed face. He clears his throat quietly, but I feel his discomfort.  
  
"Is something wrong, my darling?" I ask gently, "Can you really not tell me why you're here?"  
  
"Actually...no, I can't," he says, "I would like to...but..."  
  
"You don't trust me?"  
  
"No...It's just that...I can't go around announcing who I am, Tansho," he replies a little coldly. "It's not just for my safety, but for the safety of many others...my friends."  
  
I no longer feel the need to probe. His eyes are far too sincere, far too soft, and far too anxious. I decide to leave it be; perhaps one day he'll tell.  
  
Then my attention returns to the object of my interest, the metal weapon he keeps so close. I run a hand along the length of his arm, up to his shoulder, and around his upper back until I have the cool handle clasped in my palm. Somehow, he senses my hand on his weapon and jerks a little.  
  
"What are you doing?" he demands loudly, squirming beneath me, causing me to release the weapon in order to hold onto him so as not to fall from his lap onto the floor. I pat his chest softly with my hand.  
  
"Calm down now," I say, slowly rubbing the heel of my hand and my fingertips into his chest, and then parting the opening of his black coat to slip inside. The memories of our first encounter spill into my mind, enticing me to continue. "I'm just looking at your strange weapon. It is surely not a dagger of some sort...what is it, my dear?"  
  
The wildness of his eyes dies down, and I take the opportunity to hook my fingers over the top of his soft cotton shirt. I rub my knuckles against the soft skin on his chest, then lift my hand and trace the line of this collarbone with my fingertips.  
  
"What is that?" I whisper, inclining my head over his shoulder.  
  
"A fan," he answers nonchalantly.  
  
"You carry a metal fan around with you?" I ask, though not in a degrading tone.  
  
He nods, almost proudly.  
  
"And just what can a fan do as weapon?" I ask, my fingers still massaging against his bare skin.  
  
"Well, I don't know about other fans...but his one throws fire."  
  
"Oh, is that right?" I say, now allowing my voice to show a bit of amusement. How ludicrous! A fire-throwing fan! I almost laugh, but I don't want him to become upset with me. But though I try, my lips spread and my teeth emerge in a wild grin.  
  
"You don't believe me, do you?" he asks with an uncaring tone of voice, reclining his head against my arm when I snake it over his shoulders. I smile wider at his obvious acceptance of my presence--so close to him.  
  
"Not really, my dear," I answer truthfully, leaning harder against him, "Why don't you prove it to me?"  
  
**************************************************************************** ***************************  
  
We have to lean on each other heavily to get out of the tavern. I can feel the eyes of the men and whores on mine and Tasuki's backs, but I'm far too drunk to care. I've spent far too much of the night in his company, and I find myself hoping the other whores think I'm finally about to bed him...even though my victory would mean an entire month's wages taken from their greedy hands. I am laughing loudly when we finally reach the latrines, the site I picked for him to prove to me that fire comes out of his fan.  
  
I find that I enjoy the feeling of his arm pressed against my back, his other wrapped firmly around the front of my waist to support himself. I press one hand to his chest to keep him from toppling over and I wrap my arm around his back as well. I find that I need his support as well as my own balance if I wish to walk somewhat straight.  
  
I release him and watch in amusement as he staggers, trying desperately to stand on his own. Unfortunately, I do no better when I try to move away in order to give him room for his demonstration. My left foot catches my right as only a drunk's foot could, and I stumble, somehow being sober enough to outstretch my arms to brace myself for the fall.  
  
But I don't fall. I open my eyes and see that I'm still standing, and I also see that Tasuki's arm is wrapped so tightly around my waist that I fear I'll vomit from its pressure on my sake-filled stomach. I feel it rising in my throat, but, thankfully, he releases his tight hold on me in time and it subsides. I sigh and lean my back against his chest, for even though he no longer grips me as if I could float away, his arm is still very present on my body.  
  
"Thank you," I say, turning to look at him. He smiles giddily, then stumbles even though he is standing still, causing us both to burst into a chorus of laughter. I've forgotten how fun it is to be drunk.  
  
"Well, go on!" I cry, flinging my hand at him. "You said you'd prove it to me!"  
  
He gives me a slight frown, but moves a few yards away before taking on a battle stance and unsheathing the iron fan from behind him. He holds it in front of him, then slings it behind one shoulder. "It'll be hot," he warns me. I pretend that I didn't hear.  
  
"Fine!" he calls in my direction, "Don't say I didn't warn you!"  
  
"REKKA...SHINEN!!!!" he cries out as he flings the fan down over his shoulder, then upward towards the opposite one.  
  
Suddenly, a stream of glowing red flames leap from the folds of the fan and toward a tree a good distance away. My mouth falls open as my drunkenness wears off momentarily at the spectacular sight. Red fills my eyes as the flames roar past me, but then I feel heat on my face, my chest, my entire body. A burst of scorching heat and air is suddenly lifting me into the contrasting coolness of the air. My soberness wears off as I watch my feet leave the ground. I am so fascinated that I don't even feel myself sail backwards, even though I now see the blackness of the sky above me as if I were reclining on the grass. I feel like I'm floating in water, and I smile at how enjoyable it is. But then I feel such a pain in my spine and on the back of my head that I open my mouth to scream, but am surprised to hear only air hissing from my lungs. I am still looking at the sky, but my eyes are so unfocused that I can only see blackness. No stars. No moon. Nothing.  
  
The pain in my back and head eases as the alcohol in my blood tricks my mind into thinking there is no pain, but then it suddenly begins again in my ankle. I lift my head to see my ankle twisted rather oddly, and I try to sit up.  
  
"No, Tansho," a voice says, "Don't move."  
  
My eyes wander from the blackness to see red. Red. I gasp, thinking the fire has returned, but I am stopped by a pair of warm hands on my upper arms before I even have a chance to thrash.  
  
"Tansho, it's okay," the voice says. I finally regain my senses and realize that the voice belongs to Tasuki.  
  
"Oh, hi Tasuki!" I chime as his face comes into view above mine, "You really can throw fire from that fan, can't you?" I grin and pat his cheek softly. "That was so beautiful!" I know that my foolishness must appear as insanity to him, but I don't care.  
  
I see his nod and his small smile, but his eyes are filled with so much worry that I can hardly see anything else. Worry. Why would he be worried? What in hell has happened?  
  
"What's wrong?" I ask, my drunken words barely audible.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he says breathlessly, "I shouldn't have tried to do it when I was drunk. My aim was a little off." Then I realize. He nearly hit me with the fire blast. He nearly killed me. But I am unnerved. I'm not even annoyed, much less angry.  
  
"Don't worry," I say. "I'm alright."  
  
He snakes an arm around my back and gently moves my body upward into a sitting position. I plant my arms at my sides to try to shift myself onto my knees to stand. But my right leg only drags, and I scream as I put pressure on my ankle.  
  
"Tansho!" Tasuki yells, "Stay there!"  
  
"But I have to go back to the tavern," I protest, "Or else Shingen will wonder where I'm at." I try to push his hand away, but he grabs my shoulders and gives me a hard shake, sobering me for another moment.  
  
"You're hurt, so calm down," he tells me.  
  
I frown at his seriousness, and look at him hard. "Don't be so fucking serious!" I whisper coldly, slurring my words yet again.  
  
"It's cold out here. You're hurt. I need to get you inside," he says.  
  
"And just how the hell are you going to do that?" I ask. I can feel the sake settling in for the night. I know that it's what's causing me to suddenly be so irritable, but I'm too far gone to give a damn.  
  
"Carry you, of course. I'm the one who hurt you." I howl with laughter at the idea of him attempting to haul me upstairs while trying to keep himself from falling over backwards due to his own drunken state.  
  
"What the hell is so funny?!" he yells, turning an irritated glance my way.  
  
"You're drunk! How the fuck are you going to carry me upstairs to my room?" I'm becoming equally irritated at his determination to act the hero.  
  
"Shut up!" he retorts. "You're drunk too! And you have a hurt ankle. How the fuck are you gonna get up there on your own?!"  
  
Before I can protest further, one of his arms is curled around my back and the other is hooked under my knees. Then I am hovering in the air, the warmth of his chest pressed firmly against my shoulder and arm.  
  
Oh, fuck it all, my drunken mind hisses at me, It's a free ride...and at least you don't have to sleep with any more customers tonight. Be thankful you little idiot.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well, they're on their way to Tansho's room. Maybe they'll be a nice juicy lemon in the next chapter...maybe not!! ^_^ You'll have to wait and see!!  
  
Reply to reviewers:  
  
Adriana1210: Thanks for all the wonderful comments. I'm really behind in my e-mails, but I have something rather important that I would like to ask you.so expect one from me soon, OK?! ^_^  
  
Torrent: I'm glad that my writing encourages you! But you know.writer's practice in order to hone their skills, that means they write as much as they possibly can (like me.I've been writing since I was 12). You can't not want to be a writer just because you think you're not good enough. You might be better than you think!! ^_^  
  
Frenchiecangal: Well, I'm not sure this is where everything goes out of whack.but it is where the limes and lemons start falling from the trees, if ya know what I mean!! ^_^  
  
Blah blah: Thank you so much for the tip on that website. I'll visit it as soon as I get a chance.  
  
Cascading Hope: Thanks for the compliments! And thanks even more for putting me on your fav stories list!! *blushes*  
  
Emerin Mornlight: Ooooh! Is that one of the OAVs??!! I've got 2 and I'm looking for the others (how many more are there?) And are they already available in the U.S??? Ooooh, I gotta know I gotta know!!! *Iseult starts foaming at the mouth*  
  
*Ahem* Anyways.thank you all for your reviews!!! 


	9. The Last Part of Myself

Disclaimer: Ok, I'm really tired of typing all that I-don't-own-Fushigi Yuugi shit. Both you and I know that I sure as hell don't!! ^-^  
  
Chapter 9 The Last Part of Myself  
  
I feel my head bob against his shoulder as he carries me back into the tavern. I don't even have the strength to hold my damn head up, and I begin to giggle. I sling one arm around his shoulder to help him hold me, but the other just dangles at my side. I'm oblivious to it.  
  
As we ascend the stairs, I see Okichi's wide eyes staring at us. I want to tell her to go fuck herself and mind her own business, but my ankle hurts so much that it's affecting my mind--and I find that I'm a sudden mute. I also see Misa, but Koi and Asako are nowhere in sight.  
  
Huh, probably fucking their brains out, I think to myself.  
  
Tasuki kicks open the door to my room, steps in, then kicks it closed again. I pray that Okichi and Misa didn't see him take me to my room. We never take customers to our private rooms. They never even took their lovers to their private rooms. I've never had a lover; so I've never had the chance to take him to my room. But Tasuki's here. Tasuki. He could be a good lover by the look of him. By the feel of him.  
  
I smile to myself as I feel him letting go of me. I feel the bed give under my weight as he lowers me gently, resting my head on the pillow before carefully arranging my feet so as not to hurt my ankle further. Then the bed gives again, and I open my eyes to see him sitting at the foot, my injured ankle in his lap.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" I say, my eyes squinting at the bright lamp light of the room.  
  
"Your ankle's hurt...I'm just looking," he answers.  
  
"No it's not!" I yell, jerking my foot from his hands. A sharp pain pierces my ankle, runs down into my heel, then jolts back up into my ankle.  
  
"Ow!!!" I yell, "Oh, gods...owwww!!!"  
  
"I told you," he says softly, "Don't move it."  
  
"Oh," I moan, "Oh, fuck, fuck, it hurts...Tasuki it hurts!!!" I grab handfuls on my bed linens and begin whimpering pitifully.  
  
"Then quit kicking damn it!"  
  
I finally hold still and allow him to take my foot in his hands again. I sigh at the contact. His fingers are so hot; they almost feel like they're burning me. But I know that it's only due to the icy coldness of my foot. I was outside barefoot, after all.  
  
I relax my body as he probes the muscles of my ankle with his fingers. Every now and then he touches something that causes me to jerk, pain splintering like a piece of wood in my ankle. But then he touches me again, and it vanishes.  
  
"Thank you," I say.  
  
"For what...I'm the one who nearly blew you away," he answers. "You're not hurt too bad though, probably just twisted it wrong when you landed. It's not broken."  
  
He keeps talking softly, but I'm deaf to every word. My mind is whirling fiercely as I look at him. I can feel the heat of his hand burning through my skin and entering my bloodstream, traveling through my veins and into my heart. Then my body is afire as I feel it pumping through me mercilessly.  
  
I rise up slowly and quietly, leaning on my elbows for help. When I reach a sitting position, I gingerly snake a hand down my leg to my injured foot. He jumps when I suddenly make contact with his hand and lifts his head to look at me.  
  
"Thank you for carrying me up here," I whisper, clasping my fingers around his and pulling us closer together.  
  
I keep my hurting ankle in mind when I scoot myself right in front of him, moving it over his legs and allowing the underside of my thigh to rest on his knees. His eyes shine in the flickering light of the lamp. I feel my lungs suck in a breath as the golden glow spreads up to his nose and down to his mouth until his entire face is bathed in the exotic color.  
  
"I should tell you something," I say nonchalantly as he stares at me, his eyes asking me what I'm doing, "You're the only man I've ever met to have been in my room...in my bed...twice!" I pause to smile at him, wondering if I should continue. "You've been in my room and in my bed twice...and yet you've never so much as kissed me. I don't know if you should be proud...surprised...maybe pissed off..." I shut my mouth when I realize that the sake has taken over yet again. His eyes widen as I move closer to him. I can feel the heat of his body rise as I run my fingers from his hand further up his arm. I rest it on his shoulder momentarily as I lean into him.  
  
"You wanted to...when we were on the porch... you wanted to kiss me didn't you?" I whisper, my mouth moving closer to his ear. "Didn't you?"  
  
"Yes," he answers quickly. My heart pauses in my chest at his breathless reply.  
  
"If you had," I say, "It would have been my first kiss."  
  
I see his eyes widen in disbelief. "You mean you've never..." he pauses as if unsure of himself, "You've never kissed a man?"  
  
I shake my head gently and slowly, my chin massaging his neck. I wrap my arms under his and press my palms to his shoulder blades. I lean my cheek against his shoulder, inviting him to hold me as well.  
  
"They've tried...but I've never wanted to kiss a man..." I pause and lean back to look at him, "Until I saw you."  
  
He doesn't speak. I don't want him to. I let my eyelids flutter when I feel his hands finally press gently onto my back, holding me to him. I've been waiting for him to hold me like this. I feel the tears coming like a flood, but I refuse to cry. I blink furiously at them, and stop only when my eyes are dry again. He suddenly tightens his grip on me as if I was trying to get away. I lean my head back and press my cheek to his for a moment before looking at his face. He's smiling, but sadly.  
  
"You're telling me that...all the years you've been here...all the years you've been a..." his voice trails off. I know that he doesn't want to say it. I know that he wants to think of me as a normal woman. Not a whore. And I wonder what I want to think of myself. "All that time, and you've never kissed a man?"  
  
I shake my head again. "I knew that one would come...one who was different. I knew that I should save at least one part of myself for love." Love. That word again. Love. Did I love him? Did I love a man? Did I care about four months' extra wages for bedding him, or did I care about him?  
  
I feel him wanting to. I know that he wanted to do it desperately when we were on the porch, and he would have if I hadn't thought about all the things that were holding me back. If only I hadn't let the instincts of a harlot take over my mind.  
  
Love. Love is different than sex. Love means something totally different. Sex means coupling, taking pleasure, and returning it if you wish. Nothing more. Love means giving happiness along with pleasure.  
  
His mouth is so close that I feel his breath against my lips, heavy with the thick scent of sake. They brush mine, almost too softly to feel. But I do feel them. I feel them like I can feel his fingers pressing into my spine, like I feel his eyes on mine, like I feel the amorous warmth between my legs. I feel them when they finally crash against mine so fully that I feel I'll be swallowed. He moves them slowly and gently across mine, like moving two petals together so they won't be crushed. He's so soft. His face is so smooth, so cool; not like the thick, rough skin of the other men. The scent of his skin fills my nose and I lean harder into him to breathe him deeper.  
  
Not really knowing what I'm doing, I open my mouth to him, hoping that he does know what he's doing. I feel his mouth open as well, and suddenly his tongue is against mine and I can feel the dull tips of his fangs. And I smile in my mind at the strange sensation his tongue and fangs create together. He begins a rhythm, and I follow. Our mouths move together in a synchronized dance so slow and deep that I soon find myself lost and gasping for him when we break apart.  
  
I open my eyes to see that he's no longer kissing me. I open my mouth to call him back, but he places his hands on either side of my face and forces me to look at him.  
  
"Tansho," he whispers, his voice too serious, too direct. I want to ask him what's wrong, but he only smiles at me even though I know he is trying to remain serious. I smile back and move closer to him, placing a small and gentle kiss on his lips. He moves away instantly. "Tansho, you're drunk," he protests. I smile again.  
  
"So are you," I answer, "Kiss me again. Please..." He pauses for only a second before obeying me. It's slower than before, allowing me to taste more of him. Sake is still prominent on his lips, but I find it nice.  
  
"Thank you," I whisper, breaking away from him slightly.  
  
He pulls me back and kisses me again, harder and more desperate. I follow him, mimicking him, learning from him. He moves away from my mouth and to my jaw, following the path he took when we were on the porch together.  
  
My hands come alive as his lips move over me, down my jaw to my throat--and beyond. I search for the coolness of his belt buckle and begin to unhook it. I toss it to the floor when I've succeeded in removing it. I then begin work on his heavy black overcoat, my fingers flying over the hooks like insects through the air. I work my hands into the opening and begin to pull it over his shoulders, feeling his shoulder blades helping me work it off him. It drops behind him silently, and I continue my work.  
  
His lips never stop; even when I lift his cotton shirt over his head, his lips still find a way to be on my skin somehow. I'm fascinated with his chest, his shoulders, the muscles moving like waves of the ocean under the skin on his back. I run my hands over him, learning him. I lean away, and hook my arms around his back, pulling him with me, on top of me. I bring my injured foot up and rest it on his lower back. I feel my dress move upward on my leg until it is barely on my thigh. I nudge my heel against his boot.  
  
"You need to take off your shoes," I whisper to him, patting his back to get his attention. He lifts his head from my neck and seals his lips over my mouth. I smile and begin to giggle against his lips as I feel him begin to kick his leg, loosening his boot's hold on his foot. It makes a load thump as it lands on the floor next to the bed, shortly followed by another loud thump as its twin lands beside it.  
  
He breaks the kiss. But instead of resuming them somewhere else, he trails a hand down my shoulder to my ribs. He looks down at me with an almost pleading look as his hand lingers gently on my side. I know what he wants, though this is the subtlest way a man has ever told me.  
  
I take his face in my hands and bring his mouth closer to mine. I give him the softest kiss that I can manage in my amorous state and squirm my way under him, trailing my lips hungrily along his neck and collarbone as I go. Soon, I'm at his chest. I trace his nipples with my fingertips, relishing his sudden intake of breath at the sensitive contact. I kiss them gently, then run my fingernails carefully down his sides, feeling his ribs under the skin. I reach his stomach, one of the first places I ever touched him. The skin there is so soft and smooth, so unknown to me. I believe that of all the men I've ever know, Tasuki is not the most beautiful-- I feel that he is the most perfect. The most unblemished. The most fascinating. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug his abdomen against my cheek, breathing in the scent of his skin as he continues to balance himself above me.  
  
I then move out from beneath him, keeping my arms on his ribs, until I am at his side. I then carefully lift my injured ankle from his back and let it move with me as I push his back to the bed. Soon, we have changed positions, his back now pressed to the linens of my bed, my legs now straddling him. I make sure not to put too much pressure on my ankle as I lean forward onto his chest. He makes no objections to our new position, so I say nothing, only kiss him and allow him to pull me down on top of him. He crushes me to him momentarily, but I break away before he can turn me over onto my back again.  
  
"No, no," I whisper in my most sultry voice. I press him harder to the bed and place my hands on the ties of my gown. He rests his hands on my thighs and squeezes them slightly as if he has to control them. I smile and begin to unwork the knot of the sash that holds my dress in place. It falls limply onto his stomach. I peel the thin gown from my shoulders and let it fall around me in a pool of satin. I remove it for Tasuki just as I've removed it for so many men before him. But his eyes look at me so differently. They aren't hungry. They don't even lust. I knit my brows as I try to discern the look on his face. It is almost like fear. Or amazement. Disbelief.  
  
"What's wrong?" I ask in a concerned whisper, thinking my body revolts him. It has, after all, been beneath and on top of many men before him. He and I both know that my body is anything but pure.  
  
His eyes wander over my nakedness. I take his hands and move them towards me. I press them to my breasts, encouraging him. I am unnerved by his strange reaction to me. I want him to return to the enamored state he was in when he first kissed me.  
  
"It's alright..." I whisper to him, thinking that he is perhaps nervous, "What's wrong?"  
  
"You're too beautiful," he finally manages to say. His voice wavers in uncertainty as the words emerge.  
  
"Too beautiful?" I repeat, smiling as his hands move downwards shakily. "How can I be too beautiful?"  
  
"You just are..." His eyes look to mine as if for permission. I fall gently on his chest and kiss his cheekbone.  
  
"If I am too beautiful...does that mean you don't want me?" I ask, running my fingers across his brow and into his fiery hair. "Perhaps you should go..."  
  
"No..." he answers hastily, causing me to laugh, " I just don't know why...I mean..." I feel his hands entangle in my dark hair as he tries to articulate to me what is obviously so heavy on his heart. "Why me...why did you kiss me...and no one else?"  
  
"Because anyone can couple with another," I answer, leaning back again to look at him, "But a kiss is different. A kiss tells another that you love them-that you feel more for them than just lust. I never loved a man before...before you..." Our eyes only look. I saved the last part of myself for love. For him. Even though a man took my purity many years ago, I gave this man my love. I feel a surge within me that is much more powerful than the rush of coupling. I feel full of myself, full of him, full of life.  
  
I wonder if I should say something else. I wonder if he will say something. But his hands only roam over me, moving like leaves floating on water. I let him touch me, for his hands are smooth and careful with me. He doesn't squeeze or pinch me like all the other men who have touched me. He touches my breasts, my shoulders, my stomach, my back, and my legs as if they were all something out of a dream, threatening to dissolve in his hands if he handles me too roughly. He touches my body as if it could vanish any moment, as if it could shatter to a million pieces in his hands. And my hands do the same to him, but I know that he is real. I know that he is with me at this moment, and I know that he is different. I know that he is different from all the others because I love him. I love a man. And because I love a man-- may the gods save my soul.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sorry that I led you on so bad...but don't worry, the juicy lemon is coming soon. But this is a nice preview of what is to come, don't you think? In the meantime, why not review?!  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Blah blah: In answer to your question about the part I deleted with Chichiri-uh.let's just say that I was venting my annoyance with him via a rather insensitive mention of his soprano voice by Tansho. She seemed to be annoyed by his voice as well ^_^. I deleted it because I can remember a few reviews that I had gotten for that chapter the first time I posted it where people didn't really flame me.just kinda complained a bit.  
  
Chibi-Kaz: Thanks for the offer of hosting the un-edited version of "Tansho", but the only chapters that I'm planning on heavily editing are the lemon ones-and even on those I'm barely going to get rid of anything. I'm also planning on e-mailing the original lemon chapters to any readers who would want them (since I don't have "Tansho" posted anywhere else but FF).  
  
Sorry I didn't reply to you other reviewers. I got up at the crack of dawn yesterday to go take the ACT.then like a dumbass I decided to do some Christmas shopping afterwards. I got home and wanted to stay awake to watch InuYasha on CN, but I fell asleep after editing this chapter. I promise that if you leave me some god reviews, I'll leave you some good replies!!! ^_^ Love all of ya!!! 


	10. Warrior of Suzaku

Disclaimer: You know, you know, so I'm not gonna waste my time typing it.  
  
Chapter 10 Warrior of Suzaku  
  
I love the way he looks at me. Like I'm a goddess, or an empress. Like I'm a woman. He doesn't look at me like I'm a harlot. He doesn't grasp my chin between his fingers to try to kiss me. He doesn't squeeze my breasts so tightly and roughly that they show the bruises for days afterward. He doesn't touch me in any other way than in love. And I almost fall apart when he reaches up for me. I almost crumble in his arms when he pulls me down onto his chest. I rest for a moment on top of the beating of his heart. I rest from myself, my thoughts, my memories. And when I feel whole again, I want him so badly that I fear for my life.  
  
I run my fingers down to the ties of his trousers, but I keep my eyes on his. To my surprise, I feel him grasp my back and roll on top of me, and I'm suddenly beneath him again. But I'm not angry that he has regained the position of power. I actually like it better where he is. I like the feel of his back under my palms and the heat of his chest covering mine, and I cannot feel him like that when he's beneath me.  
  
It doesn't take me long to undo the ties and begin working his pants off of his hips. Although he tries to help, his hands are preoccupied with my breasts, and I laugh against his mouth when he refuses to release them to aide me. I move his pants down his legs using my feet, grasping them with my toes and pushing them over his behind and to his knees. He takes it from there, kicking them as he did his boots until they flutter to the floor. He grabs hold of my gown that I had shed on his stomach and unwinds it from our bodies, tossing it onto his white undershirt and trousers on the floor by my bed.  
  
Nothing separates us now. Air, perhaps. But we are so close that I believe not even air can move itself between us. He kisses me gently, and I kiss him back--harder. Our kisses range from soft and mild to wildly desperate, and I find that it excites me--not knowing how he will react-- not knowing how I'll react. Not knowing which of us will be the one to lose ourselves first.  
  
I can feel the wetness of my arousal between my legs, and I can feel him there as well. He presses against my thigh, but doesn't struggle for entrance. I know he waits for me, for my permission, and my amour deepens because of his patience. I now have access to any part of his body I wish. I run my knees over his thighs, a place I've never touched before. I feel the curve of his calves with the arches of my feet, and curl my legs around the back of his thighs when his lips connect to my throat. I explore the skin of his shoulders and back with my hands, trailing my fingernails across the muscles clenching at his shoulder blades and surrounding his spine. He seems tense one moment, as if he is unsure of himself and unsure of me; and yet the next moment, he is breathing softly against my skin as his patience runs thin.  
  
I let my hands drift up and down his arms, creating heat; and suddenly I begin to shiver. The cold wraps around me like a cloud, and I feel the hair of my body stand on end. Then my teeth begin to click together, and they won't stop.  
  
"Are you cold?" Tasuki asks immediately, his arms moving to envelope me.  
  
"A little," I answer.  
  
"Well, we are in the open air," he states with a grin.  
  
I try to sit up to work the linens of the bed down to allow us to get under them, but he stops me.  
  
"No need," he says, "I have a better way." I look at him curiously, my eyebrows lifted in amusement.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
He works an arm under my back and presses himself close to me. I do the same, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. The full contact seems to ignite us both, making my abdomen clench in longing, making his steady breath become irregular panting. He grabs a handful of linens from the edge of my bed and suddenly begins to roll over, taking me with him. I then see what he's doing when the linens begin the wrap themselves around us like a cocoon, pressing us even closer together, if that is possible. He stops when we are entirely covered, and my shivers cease. I laugh even though my bed is messed up. I realize that the two of us probably look absolutely ridiculous; but I also realize that I don't care.  
  
We resume our actions, now that we are warm. He kisses my hands as if I were a lady of high rank, as if by kissing my hands he could receive my blessing. He turns them over and presses his lips to the thickened skin of my palms. He kisses my hair, then buries his fingers in it and spreads it out above our heads like a cloak. I am mesmerized by his actions, his strange kisses. Never before has a man done such things to me. I feel as if I am being worshipped. I blush furiously, unsure of what to give him in return. It doesn't take me long to realize that these small, seemingly unimportant touches are what is making my desire sink deeper into me. I can feel it taking hold of my bones, and seeping into my soul.  
  
Suddenly a bright red light catches my eye and I look down between our bodies to see Tasuki's arm glowing like a fire. I gasp in sheer terror and try to scoot out from beneath him, but he grabs my arms and holds me still.  
  
"Tansho," he cries, but I still thrash against him, "Tansho what's wrong?!"  
  
His arm moves, and I see it fully. A bright red character glows wildly on his right forearm. I stare at it, and his eyes follow my gaze. He gasps, and I realize that he's just as surprised as I am at its appearance.  
  
"Tasuki!" I hiss, "what is that?"  
  
"I...I thought it only appears when I'm...fighting," he whispers, partly to me, but mostly to himself.  
  
"What is it?" I repeat. He shows no sign that he has heard me, so I repeat myself again, making my words louder. His eyes finally meet mine.  
  
"I guess I have to tell you..." he says, though his voice doesn't show disappointment. He actually seems to be amused.  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
"Remember when I told you my true name.and that I'm not from the capital?" he begins. I nod slowly, and he continues. "I'm here, Tansho, because I was called."  
  
"Called?" I try to conceal my confusement, but it is evident in my faltering voice.  
  
"Actually, at first, I was asked to come, but I refused. Then I heard them calling to me, and I went to join them."  
  
"Who? Who are you talking about?"  
  
"The priestess and the other warriors," he answers.  
  
"Priestess...warriors?" I cannot even piece together a sentence from my confusion. Or perhaps my drunkeness has returned.  
  
"I am a warrior of Suzaku. One of seven. And I am here because our priestess has appeared. We are all called together when she appears," he continues to explain.  
  
Suzaku. The name sounds familiar. I know of Suzaku. The god of the south. Konan's protector. I know something of the priestess and the warriors. I know that their signs are in the stars. But I didn't know that they had characters burned into their bodies. And I surely didn't know that they were here in the capital-and that I was in bed with one of them.  
  
"You're a warrior of Suzaku? This marks you?" I ask, placing my finger just above the character. I am terrified to touch it, for fear of being burned. But I feel a demanding desire to lay my fingers upon it, as if it were calling out to me. "Can I touch it?" I ask quietly.  
  
"I don't see why not," he answers, shrugging lightly.  
  
I place the tip of my index finger gingerly on its edge. It is not hot, but it most definately emits heat. It is a somewhat different texture than the rest of his skin; somewhat raised, like a birthmark-or a new scar. I run my finger along its length, then trace its shape. It is fascinating to me. And when I feel the weight of Tasuki's otherworldly eyes on me, I can tell that he finds my fascination amusing.  
  
"A warrior of Suzaku..." I whisper to myself. "Tasuki..." I smile coyly and look up at him. He lifts himself up on his arms, then slowly lowers himself again until the heat of his body is hovering over me, and his mouth his grazing mine gently.  
  
"Impressed?" he whispers slyly.  
  
"Very," I answer, averting my eyes from him. "Any more secrets?" He touches my cheek with his fingertips and moves my face back to his. He leans down further and smiles against my lips, then kisses them quickly.  
  
"Nope!"  
  
"Good!" I reply, my quick breath making my speech light and airy. I wrap my arms around him and hold him to me. My mouth strays to his ear and I tentatively kiss his earlobe, wanting to feel him tremble above me. I don't leave his ear alone until I feel his skin break into a sweat, his body close to exhaustion from the violent shivers my mouth causes. "We've waisted enough time as it is..." I whisper to him.  
  
  
  
  
  
I should probably start running if I want to save my ass from all you seriously pissed off people wanting a good lemon...but I promise you'll think twice about kicking my ass when you read the next chapter. Sorry that I led you on yet again, but all your waiting will be worth while, I promise! *Iseult takes a step back and gets ready to run anyway*  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Blah blah: Well, I was thinking the lemons I wrote would be very graphic, but it's been so long since I've read my own writing that I wasn't expecting to see that I had been quite tasteful in writing the sex scenes. Next chapter when things heat up, you'll hopefully see what I mean. I was seriously turned off by the painfully graphic lemons I've read, and decided long ago that if I happened to become a lemon writer (and lo and behold, I did!! ^_^), I would be subtle in my descriptions. So as for now, I'm not going to have separate lemon chapter, so there's no need to worry! And as for your suggestion that I post this fic elsewhere as well as on FF.I've actually been looking around lately and can only find private websites that are to my liking. And most of those require that the fic be completed before e-mailing it. Oh well!  
  
Frenchicangal: Oh man, my spell checker absolutely loathes your name. It beats the hell out of it every time I edit! ^_^ Anyways, I don't mind a little pushing. I probably need to be pushed considering the career I've chosen for myself (novelism with a bit of journalism on the side). Push all you want my friend!!!! ^_^ Oh, and thank you so much for your encouragement for the ACT. I don't think I aced it, but I most definitely should get into GSU with the scores (though I won't know what I made until next month). And as for my editing.I've recently discovered that I may get to lay off for a while, at least in the lemon department. Turns out I'm not as perverted as I thought I was ^_^.  
  
RyogazGal: Ah, yet another Chichiri fan.*Sigh* Thank God that I deleted that scene. Whew! Or else you'd be all over me too. I'm sorry I ever put that in there; it was, after all, kinda mean. But oh well.it's gone now!! No harm done! And yep, I'm as much of an InuYasha fan as a person can be! I've got all 12 graphic novels, and I try to watch the anime though I have to turn around every now and then to keep from spitting on the T.V. Hee hee, don't take that seriously.I'm just very disappointed with a few of the things in the anime that shouldn't be there. And as for the ever popular Tas/Chi pairing.I shied away from them long ago (actually, I think I read only 2 or 3). I'm not against homosexuality or anything like that.I'm just more comfy with reading and writing opposite Sex pairings. And, plus, I never though the Tas/Chi pairing to be very believable (but.what the hell is fanfiction for, right?! ^_^) I hope you don't think of me as intolerant or anything like that. I still respect the ideas of others no matter what.  
  
Thanks to all of you whom I didn't reply to. Your reviews are just as important to me!! ^_^  
  
Oh, p.s. This might be the last chapter I post before Christmas. Me and my family are heading out of town on Christmas Eve and won't be returning until this weekend. Hee hee, I'm evil aren't I?? Making you poor souls wait a whole week for the lemon! * Iseult dodges a rather large fireball *  
  
Merry Christmas!!!! See ya'll next year!! ^_^ 


	11. Better to Lie and Keep Him

Disclaimer: You know the deal, I don't own shit. Wait, I do own Tansho...so don't try to steal her. Or the other whores, for that matter!  
  
!!!Big Fat Warning!!!! * huge red light begins to blink very annoyingly * Everyone pay attention!!!! This chapter contains some serious citrus flavor (that means.duhn duhn duhn.SEX!!), so please * I repeat * please read at your own risk. I will not be held accountable for the perversion of young minds who have no damn business reading this!!!  
  
Thank you for you patience and please enjoy your reading. ^_^  
  
Chapter 11 Better to Lie and Keep Him  
  
I kiss him hard, so hard I feel I've bruised our lips. I am ready for him, and I know that neither of us can bear to wait any longer. He senses my dire need for him in the way my eyes stare into his. I feel his hands stray from my face and down my sides, gliding over my waist and hips to my thighs. He lifts them and places them around his waist, encouraging me to hold him. He runs his palms over my calves as he returns his hands to their former places beside us. His eyes stare at me for one last moment as if asking my permission, and I kiss his mouth lightly to answer him, to give him all of my consent.  
  
He does not thrust violently as the men before have. He guides himself into me gently and slowly as if I were a virgin not accustomed to the size of a man. At first I am annoyed by him, by his deliberately moderate actions, but then my heart is unexpectedly moved by his compassion for me; and I realize that he is not treating me like a virgin, for I know that he is no fool. I realize that he is treating me like a woman he loves. Like a woman he wishes to please, not to hurt. And I feel the warmth of fresh tears on my cheeks as he kisses my neck softly and begins his rhythm. I feel a small pang of guilt on the inside of my chest; I'm ashamed that I would think such things of him when he was loving me so fully. I feel him halt, his body tense above me. I am pulled from my thoughts as the pleasant sensations that had been building suddenly halt with him. My body screams for him to continue his movements.  
  
"Am I hurting you?" he whispers, his breath irregular. His eyes are wide, staring at me almost in fear. I realize that his gaze is lingering on my cheeks, following the streaks of tears down my face.  
  
"No," I answer, taking my hands from his back and gliding them through his fiery hair. "No, you're not."  
  
"Why are you crying, then?" he asks. He is still so tense, his muscles so taut I fear they'll snap under his skin.  
  
"Because I'm happy."  
  
I pull his face to mine, refusing to let him speak more. "Make love to me," I whisper, "Please..." I settle my lips over his again, encouraging him.  
  
I remove my hands from his hair and place them firmly on his shoulders, arching my back and pressing my body against his chest. I want him to see that he is doing anything but hurting me. I want him to relax in my arms. I want him to lose himself in me. I want us both to be able to forget the world around us and seep into each other.  
  
I knead his shoulder muscles with my fingers, trying to loosen their clench on each other. It takes a few minutes of quiet words and soft kisses to make his body mold itself back to mine. He finally relaxes and covers me again with the warmth of his skin. And in a breathless furry, we resume our lovemaking.  
  
I am intoxicated by the feelings being releases on my body-both inside and out. He moves so slowly within me, almost too gently; but I am wracked with pleasure. I feel it spread over me like water, warm and thick. Slow.  
  
Men have pleasured me before, but roughly and quickly, caring only that I return the favor as quickly as possible. But Tasuki is giving to me while I give to him; and my mind is wrapping around itself, trying desperately to understand how these things are happening.  
  
I open my mouth and listen with amusement at my own sounds of bliss, seeing that Tasuki enjoys hearing them as well. I raise my voice louder as the heat between my legs grows and burns like a fire escaping its hearth. I squeeze my thighs around his hips tighter, causing the walls of my womanhood to clench, and I am rewarded with not only a heightening of my own pleasure, but a deep moan from Tasuki. Upon hearing his voice break free, I have a fierce desire to please him further, so I clamp my legs tighter once again, wondering how this delightful little trick had evaded my knowledge for so long. Still, I find myself overjoyed that I am learning it with someone who I wish to please, not with a man who would throw a few coins at my feet at the end.  
  
I feel him pick up speed as we both begin to pant, our lungs becoming exhausted. Our bodies are pushed back and forth on the smooth linens as his pace quickens even more. I grasp his back, keeping us pressed firmly together, knowing his release as well as my own is close. I see his teeth grit together and his eyes close lazily as his face tenses at his building release.  
  
When I peak, I am unprepared. My body begins to tremble softly, like a leaf in a windstorm. I lose control of myself, allowing the ripples of my climax to travel the length of my body. They fly over my skin, through my veins, into my brain. I moan loudly then whisper Tasuki's name again and again like a mad woman as I hug him close to me, feeling my womanhood tighten around him, urging him to join me. He quickly obliges with a heavy moan and whispers my name between gritted teeth as our bodies move together a final time. I feel the warmth of his essence as he releases deep into my womb with a quick and final thrust. And for the first time I am fascinated, not disgusted, at the feeling inside of me. I stare blankly into space as the sensations subside, but I'm not disappointed at all that we were so quick. I smile as he sluggishly falls upon me in exhaustion. I relish the scent of his sweat on his hot skin and the deep, quick thud of his heart against my naked breasts. As his skin cools, I feel his lungs calm themselves within his ribcage, relieved that his work is over. He absent-mindedly kisses my neck and collarbone, which just happen to be the areas in which his face lies. I can tell that his mind is elsewhere, still dazed and exhilarated from the intensity of our union.  
  
I wipe the sweat-soaked tendrils of red hair from his face as he continues to hug my body close to his. I can taste my own sweat thick on my lip and I lick it away, enjoying the salty taste.  
  
My mind is suddenly plagued by the thought of the other women and our agreement. Our game. The prize of four months' extra wages for bedding Tasuki. I find I care nothing about the money, even though I have clearly earned it in their eyes. I decide that when Tasuki and I part, it will actually be better if I do go and gloat over my accomplishment to them. Hopefully, they'll see only me coming to collect my reward. There will be no suspicions of us being lovers. Lovers. The word is hot on my brain. Is that what we are? Is that what we have become? Is that what he wishes to be? Is that what I wish us to be? I find myself hoping desperately that it is, even though my heart is beating furiously out of what I know is anxiousness. I fear the consequences of being such a thing. A lover. I've seen the bruises on the faces of the other women, caught with their lovers by Shingen. I wonder if I am prepared to expose myself to his wrath just because I find myself attracted to this fire-haired man lying on my breasts. Just because I think I may love him.  
  
Then my mind is torn from its reverie and returns to the present, and I find that I am sweating profusely. When I move slightly, I feel the slick moisture of Tasuki's skin as well. The linens wrapped around our bodies are smothering us.  
  
"I'm hot," I whisper in his ear, my breath fluttering his wild hair.  
  
He doesn't reply, only assists me in removing the linens from around our still connected bodies.  
  
"Better?" he asks when the cool air hits us, instantly causing us both to shiver in delight.  
  
I nod and place a small kiss on his brow when he lifts his head slightly to look at me.  
  
"Am I too heavy?" he whispers huskily, his exhaustion showing as he slowly raises himself on his elbows. His sluggish movements make my lips crack in a smile.  
  
"No," I reply quickly, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep him on top of me and to keep us joined. "I'd be too cold if you moved. Stay where you are."  
  
He lowers his body back on top of mine, but shifts himself slowly so that my chest isn't forced to take all of his weight. I frown when his slow shifting causes us to become two people once more, but soon realize that it is a bit more comfortable. He reaches down to the foot of the bed, grabs a single sheet, and throws it lightly over us as he works his arm beneath my back, turning me on my side and pressing me against him. He rests his face close to mine so that we can whisper, for we are both far too spent to speak normally.  
  
"Will you be angry with me and toss me out of your room if I ask you something?" he replies hesitantly, his eyes still somewhat glazed over, still more evidence of the intensity of out lovemaking. I already know that he wishes to ask questions about me. Me and the brothel-to be more specific. I am ready, even though I am terrified that when he hears my answers he will wish to leave my bed on his own accord.  
  
"Will you leave me if I tell the truth?" I reply.  
  
I feel him tense and I see his eyes flinch, but his gaze remains on me. "No," is his simple reply.  
  
"Then ask me whatever you wish."  
  
His hand drapes across my waist beneath the sheet as if he is ready to grab and keep me near him if I try to run. I don't want to ruin the emotion of the moment, but I feel his need to know more about me than my name and my unfortunate profession.  
  
"Why are you here, Tansho? Why are in this tavern?" he whispers gently, still worried that I will be offended by his blunt questions. I knew that he would ask that. My heart knew it before he spoke it. I refuse to let my mind struggle to think up a good lie. I must tell the truth. I know that I must. But when I see his eyes, I am too scared.  
  
If he knows, he will leave. If I tell him the truth, he will leave my bed in an instant, for he will know that we could never be able to love each other the way we desire to. My answer would slap him in the face, crush his heart, and make him hate me for making love to him-then daring to tell him this afterwards. My answer would bluntly state to him that I could never be his, that I could never belong to him, that he could never belong to me.  
  
I want us to be together for as long as possible. I want him to know that I love him, and not any other man who takes my body. But I already know that jealousy will murder his soul and consume him whether I lie or tell the truth. Both paths will cause destruction in one form or another. At least if I lie, he will think that I could truly be his and only his, and he might be able to forget my obligations as a whore. If I lie, it will buy us precious time. If I tell him the truth, jealousy will cause him to act on my behalf without thinking about the consequences. Or it will rouse contempt for me for taunting him with love-then telling him that there is no chance for us.  
  
No, it is better to lie and keep him with me for as long as we can hide ourselves. It is much better than to tell the truth and have his jealousy rip us apart in a futile and rash attempt to save me. Or have his loathing crush me like an avalanche.  
  
"I was young and foolish, with no one to tell me the truth about what I was about to do with my life," I begin, the battle in my mind causing my voice to be unsteady. "I saw the women on the street, the women everyone called whores and harlots, but I didn't have any idea why they were called those names. When I saw them, I saw beauty. They were the most beautiful women I had ever seen, and they walked proud and tall, like empresses or goddesses. They laughed and smiled so happily and sweetly, like nothing in the world could bother them. I had no idea that they did it to lure men. I thought they were truly happy. I thought they had everything in the world a woman could want. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be them."  
  
I pause momentarily, surprised at how well my lie is forming on my lips. But my heart swells with pain when I see that Tasuki believes every word I am saying. I force myself to continue even though every ounce of emotion in my body is weeping for the man lying so close to me, pleading with me to stop my lies.  
  
"I followed them one day to this tavern, and when one of them saw me, she tried to shoo me away. I should have heeded her and run madly back to my home; but like the fool I was, I begged her to teach me to become like her. She only laughed in my face, but I pressed on, still ignorant of the place that I was fighting to valiantly to gain entrance to. Finally she said I could live in the tavern with her and the others, but that I would have to work like the other women for my bed and my food. I didn't realize what I had done until that first night, when I saw them for who they really were. When I saw what was expected of me. I tried to run, to get out, to go home; but they said I had wanted it. So I stayed, and I learned. I became used to the life over time. I had no choice, really." I pause again, wondering again if he is still believing me. His eyes say he is, and my heart clenches painfully. "I was only twelve years old," I finally finish. I find some meager comfort in knowing that at least the last sentence of my false story is not a lie.  
  
Silence saturates the air between us, above us, and around us. His eyes look at me sadly, but not with pity. I am thankful for that. I do not want pity, even from a man I have dared to love. Pity does nothing for a person but make them lethargic and idle. I am alive now only because of my strength. If I lose that, I lose everything about myself.  
  
There is more compassion in his eyes than anything, and I wonder if I am offended by that-or put at peace.  
  
"Are you angry?" I ask quietly, lowering my eyes to his bare chest instead of facing his eyes.  
  
"Why would I be?" he answers. "You said you were young, with no one to tell you the truth. Are you an orphan? Did your parents never come looking for you?"  
  
I cringe, knowing that I will be forced to lie again in order to maintain my story.  
  
"No, they died when I was an infant. I was sent to an orphanage, but they have no control over the children in their care. If one wishes to leave, they have no choice but to let them go. So it was with me," I say, almost ready to cry. I cannot bear to let anther lie slip through my teeth like a poisonous serpent I cannot bear to have it sting him directly in his heart.  
  
I press my face against Tasuki's chest, breathing in the masculine scent of his skin. He holds onto my back and caresses my shoulders and arms, trying to warm me and comfort me. But he thinks I pine for comfort due to my sad existence, my unfortunate past and seemingly bleak future. I only wish to hide my face from him. The reality of the truth is sinking deeper into me, seeking vengeance for daring to cover it up.  
  
I find myself wishing desperately for sleep so that I can escape my shame. To my relief, I soon feel my wish being granted. I rest my head heavily on Tasuki's chest. I fall asleep listening to the thunderous beating of his heart, wondering if he will ever escape the lies that I have planted in his mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Ah!! Finally, my lovely lemon! Believe it or not, I didn't have to do ONE BIT of editing in this chapter (save for a few spellings and grammars and a few additions to content). Here I was, thinking that I'm gonna have to cut out half of the good sex.when suddenly I realize how tasteful it is while re-reading it. I totally forgot about how subtle I was when writing it!!! I guess I got nervous from reading the other lemons on FF that seems to dictate every single body part involved, and totally forgot that they were the ones that drove me to write a nice, mild, emotional lemon. No offense to you lemon writers out there.in my opinion, any lemon is a good lemon for the mere fact of having the balls to write it ^_^. Anyways, I was very surprised at my good fortune (and somewhat embarrassed now that I've caused all you readers so much grief () Please do forgive this lazy writer who hardly ever reads her own stories..^_^  
  
Well, getting back in the fic...what exactly is Tansho hiding from Tasuki? Why does she need to lie (remember the flashback in chapter seven? Soon to be explained...I promise!) Will she have to lie forever? Will she take the money for sleeping with him, or refuse it?  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
I'm so terribly sorry that this update has taken so damn long. I just got back from my Christmas vacation in the mountains, and I would have updated while I was there..but..no computer! Waaahhhhh!! I want a lap-top!!!!  
  
Frechiecangal: Yeah, so very sorry for my devious cliffhangers. I have an addiction to them.they're very effective when you want to piss people off. ^_^  
  
Shadow priestess: Yeah, you might have missed a few updates.mine fluctuate terribly. Sometimes I update every other day, sometimes every other week. Sorry 'bout that! ^_^  
  
Author who's too lazy to sign in: Well, that's a pen name that will get some attention. ^_^ So.you asked how many times I've led you on??? Ummm..a lot?! ^_^ Hee Hee  
  
Zerianyu: Man, I've never gotten so many reviews from one person in such short succession!!! Wow!! Oh, and thank you for giving me the address to that NC-17 website. It's been recommended to me before, but I've never had a chance to visit it. I really need to!!!  
  
Thanks again for all the reviews! 


	12. They Know

Disclaimer: You know, you know, I own Tansho but not FY and Tasuki. Leave me the hell alone!!! Waaaaahhhh!!!!  
  
Warning: Ok, let's see.a bit of cussing and some interesting humor that shouldn't offend anyone. If it does however, let's just say that you really don't need to be reading this story. ^_^  
  
Chapter 12 They Know  
  
I wake with a start. At first, my hazy mind tells me that it must have been a nightmare, but then my ear is bombarded with such an unnatural sound that I gasp in fright. I sit up straight and rub my eyes vigorously until they focus. What they see makes my lungs release a heavy sigh of relief. Tasuki lies on his back with his head next to where mine had been, his arm draped heavily over my waist, his long legs entangled within the single sheet spread over our naked bodies, his mouth open in a deep and boisterous snore. Then I realize that his snoring was what startled me out of my sleep.  
  
I settle back in beside him, careful not to wake him up. I rest my face next to his cheek, grinning at his appearance. His flamed hair is even more unruly and unkempt than normal, making me unable to keep my hands off it. I let my fingers glide through the tangled strands, gently straightening and smoothing them until they appear too perfect. I frown at my work, annoyed and frustrated, and I gently ruffle the red and orange mass back to its previous state. Tasuki emits an even louder and longer snore and swats at my hands with the arm that had been resting on my stomach, mumbling incoherently. Then, unexpectedly, he rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face in the midst of my breasts, sighing happily. I laugh to myself as he wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me gently, making it obvious to me that he's awake.  
  
"Good morning," I whisper into his hair.  
  
"Mmmm..." is the only answer I receive.  
  
"Comfortable?" I ask.  
  
"Mmmm..."  
  
I roll my eyes slightly, but I realize with happiness that though other men have done the same thing, I enjoy the feel of Tasuki pressed close to my bare breasts. The feel of his breathing on my skin, the weight of his warm body, the strength of his arms wrapped around me-it all makes me realize yet again that this man is so different from others that I have known. It is even more fascinating to me that the little things such as this that would normally not even cause me to raise my eyebrow in acknowledgement are actually dictating my feelings. When other men touch me, I ignore it. But when Tasuki touches me, I revel in it. I beg for it.  
  
Even now, as his red hair tickles my bare breasts, causing me to giggle lightly, I realize that he is so very different from the other men. It is not his unnatural beauty, though his face and body are a rare treat for a veteran whore; it is his voice and his words, his hands and his movements, his eyes and his touch that are so wonderfully different. They ask for absolutely nothing. And yet I am in love with giving to him.  
  
I find myself worrying about him. About myself. After sleeping with such a man-- such a gentle, kind, compassionate, sensual man, could I continue to sleep with other men just to earn a single gold coin? Then my mind beats me back into my reality. I am not earning a single gold coin; I'm earning my bed and my food. I'm earning my living. And I also remember my unfortunate situation, a situation that none of the other whores have to endure, a reality that they do not have to live with every day of their lives. The truth about why I am really here in this goddamned place.  
  
Tasuki shifts again, kissing my chest before rolling onto his side and resting his chin in the palm of his propped-up hand.  
  
"Good morning," he says sleepily. I smile, and run my finger down the bridge of his nose.  
  
"How does your ankle feel?" he asks.  
  
I suddenly remember the injury that I received the night before. I lift my foot from beneath the linens and flex it at the ankle, relieved to find that it doesn't hurt at all. How odd  
  
"Well, it's not painful," I answer, "I guess you made me forget all about it."  
  
He smiles at me, showing his fangs.  
  
"I imagine that I am in a great deal of trouble at the moment," I say.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"I never came back to the floor last night," I answer, "And I know that the other women saw you carry me up here."  
  
"Maybe they'll think that you were just...just doing your job," he replies hesitantly, his words low and hushed. My heart sinks at the sadness so evident in his voice. My job. He knows it just as well as I do- - probably better. I frown deeply and look away from him, suddenly feeling insecure of myself.  
  
"Is that what you think?" I ask in a clear voice, determined not to appear weak.  
  
"It's not if it isn't what you want me to think," he answers quickly, his words calm and lucent. I smile in spite of myself. He's a clever one. He knows me better than I know myself; it's painfully obvious in his sincere words.  
  
"You know that it's not," I answer slowly, "You know that it's different...between us."  
  
He nods and rolls over onto his back, slipping a hand beneath my body and bringing me onto his chest. I come willingly and wrap my arm around his waist, settling my face in the hollow of his neck. I run my hand down his chest, feeling its smoothness and warmth. I feel so calm here. I feel collected. I feel as if I am separated from the world and all that's in it.  
  
"I know," is all he says. And I realize that it is enough-for both he and I.  
  
We lie there for what seems like only seconds, though I am sure that half the morning has slipped away. I am content to hear his breathing beneath my ear as he and I doze lightly in the soothing warmth of the sun seeping through my window. And he seems content to breathe in the scent of my hair. Neither of us speaks, only listen.  
  
But then I hear them. Just like I heard them that first time Tasuki was in my room-in my bed. I hear their voices and the sound of their feet padding across the slick wood. But this time I hear something I didn't hear the first time. This time, the whores are not alone. This time I hear Shingen's deep voice and his heavy footfalls echoing around the soft steps of the women.  
  
My head snaps up and I see Tasuki's eyes widen. He hears what I hear.  
  
"Oh, fuck!" I whisper. "They can't find you here!"  
  
In a mad scramble of linens we try to disentangle ourselves without making too much noise. I grab my gown and have it wrapped around my body in less than a minute, but Tasuki is not as lucky as I to have just one article of clothing. He grabs his pants and jumps up and down to get them on, then shoves his feet in his boots as I wait next to him with his shirt and coat. After he dresses the lower half of his body, he lifts his arms for me so that I can pull his cotton shirt over his head as if I were dressing an infant. After tucking it into his pants, I tell him to turn around and I slip his black coat up his arms and onto his wide shoulders. I then buckle his belt around his waist. I hand him the sheath with the iron fan in it and he hastily straps it to his back.  
  
"Hurry!" I whisper madly, taking him by the arm. It suddenly dawns on me that with them so close to my door, he is trapped in my room. My eyes search frantically for a place to hide him. They settle immediately on my wardrobe. "There's no way out until they leave, so get in!" I whisper to him, grabbing his shoulders and shove him through the open doors of my wooden wardrobe. "Stay quiet and I'll try to get rid of them!" I say. He nods and does as I say.  
  
Just as I close the door, the double doors of my room are thrown open and Shingen's bulky body shadows mine.  
  
"Tansho!" he yells, "Why the fuck are still in here? You go to bed early last night and then sleep 'till goddamn noon the next morning? What the fuck's wrong with you, woman?!"  
  
I let go of the wardrobe door handles and back up toward my bed, away from Shingen. I know that my hair is a tangled mass and my clothes are wrinkled from being wadded up on the floor last night-- with Tasuki's clothes.  
  
"Uhh..." I mumble, searching my mind for an excuse, any excuse. Then I remember my ankle and how I hurt it last night. I remember that Okichi saw Tasuki carrying me up the stairs to my room. Even though my ankle strangely doesn't hurt any more, I try to turn and walk to my bed, limping intentionally as I do so. "Ohh," I moan as I put pressure on my foot, "My ankle. I fell last night by the latrines and twisted it. One of the customers was kind enough to carry me to my room. You saw him carrying me, didn't you, Okichi?" I raise my eyebrows at the young woman and at Shingen, whose face has gone from rage to worry.  
  
He turns and glares at the creamy-haired woman behind him. "Well? Okichi?"  
  
"I saw a guy carrying 'er up here," Okichi replies in a tranquil tone, "He's a regular...but he only likes Tansho...doesn't take to none of us..." I can hear the switch of tones in her melodious voice. It has a tint of malevolence.  
  
I see Koi, Misa, and Asako grin suddenly as my facial expression acknowledges Okichi's sudden switch. They know. Okichi told them. They know that I slept with Tasuki. I pray furiously to the gods that their jealousy and rage of loosing our game doesn't cause them to divulge me. They might know that he's still here. They might have planned this.  
  
My muscles tense in anxiety. My mouth goes dry.  
  
Oh Gods...Tell him that you saw him leave, please Okichi , my mind begs her.  
  
"He only stayed for a couple of minutes though," Okichi finally answers, showing her toothy grin to me, "I guess Tansho really must have hurt her foot if she didn't wanna bed that guy." Once again, her nightingale-pitched voice substitutes cunning and noxious malice for humor.  
  
She's saving me, I realize. My mind feels as if it's collapsing in on itself as the relief washes over me.  
  
"Well, you should stay in bed for a few days, then," Shingen says, satisfied with Okichi's answer, though he seems skeptical. "I'll send for the Healer."  
  
He turns to leave and begins to try to herd the other women out, but they stand their ground.  
  
"You go on, we'll be down in a minute. We just want to catch up a little with Tansho before we go to work, alright Shingen-kun?" Koi asks, taking a strand of blonde hair between her fingers and twirling it. The other women tilt their heads at their pimp and pout their lips.  
  
Shingen frowns for a moment, but then the colossal features of his face soften at Koi's loveliness and the sweetness of the other women's demeanors. "Alright, but just for a minute. Nothing good can come out of a group of whores together in one room...but one thing..."  
  
Koi giggles lightly, and Shingen smiles at his crude joke. He leaves and closes the door heavily behind him.  
  
My heart quickens. What will they do? Do they know that he's still here? I am unsure of what to do, so I stand still as if they could overlook me.  
  
Asako is the first to act. Her voluptuous body sways across my room and some to a stop in front of me. She smiles broadly, showing the gaps in her teeth, and helps me to sit down on my bed before standing back up in front of me. Suddenly, her hands come together and she begins to clap slowly and softly, her applause sounding like waves washing against sand. Soon, the others are smiling and clapping as well. I am no fool; it doesn't take me long to realize that they are mocking me.  
  
"Bravo, my little Tansho!" Asako says quietly so that Shingen can't hear, "You have succeeded in bedding our little red-head, have you not?" They stop their sarcastic clapping after she speaks. I feel the heat of their gaze on me, and my skin feels as if it's on fire.  
  
I don't know whether I should tell the truth, or lie. Which is better? Which is safer? Which will save my lover and I? I decide to go the course I decided on last night. It would be better to tell them that I did succeed, so that they would not discover Tasuki and I later on and expose us to Shingen as lovers. If I told them that Tasuki had finally given in to a whore and paid me for my services, then it would make no matter if they discovered us later on or not. They would think he was merely a customer who liked what he had and was simply coming back for more.  
  
"Unfortunately for you, I believe I did," I say boldly, lifting my head and meeting their gazes. They hide their emotions so well, and it disturbs me. I cannot tell if they are pleased or spiteful at what I have accomplished.  
  
The silence smothers me. They continue to stare at me. I wonder what they are thinking. They are of course angry that I will be getting my reward-the reward is, after all, their own wages out of their own pockets. But how angry? I notice that I am breathing too heavily and I have to tell my lungs to slow down.  
  
Suddenly, Okichi lets out a loud "hump!", startling me. She frowns deeply and crosses her arms.  
  
"Goddamn it, Tansho!" she cries, "I was gonna buy a new bracelet with that damn money!"  
  
"Yeah, you little tramp," Misa spits, "I wanted a new pair of slippers and one of those new dresses that you can clasp instead of having to buy a damn sash to tie around you!"  
  
They are angry, but they are still good-spirited toward me. Thank the gods.  
  
"I wanted a pretty necklace to match my new earrings you gave me for my birthday, Tansho," Okichi moans, making her eyes water to try to get me to pity her.  
  
"Sorry," I say, "You'll have to make due 'till next year!"  
  
"I knew she'd do it! He never even wanted to touch me... even to get me away from him!" Misa cries, crossing her arms over her ample chest, mimicking Okichi.  
  
It takes a while, but soon they are laughing with me and begging me to tell them all that happened the night before. Even Asako, who I was sure was angriest of all, is eager to hear about the night that Tasuki and I shared.  
  
"Tell the truth, Tansho," Koi says seriously, "How big was he?"  
  
They explode in laughter, and I think I can almost see the embarrassed frown on Tasuki's blush-reddened face. He can probably hear every single word. Then my mind gasps in utter terror. He can hear. He heard them talk about our game. The reward for bedding him. My mind races back to try to remember exactly how much of our game was revealed. Will he be upset, knowing that he was the center of our game? Our goal? Does he know that I have earned four months' wages for sleeping with him?  
  
Does he know that the money doesn't matter to me? Oh gods, please tell me he knows this!  
  
"Well, Tansho?" Koi hollers restlessly, "Speak up!" I'm hurled back into reality, and I see her leaning over me, her eyes eager for my answer.  
  
"Not the biggest I've had...but...you know as well as I do..." I pause for a minute, "That's it's not all about the size..."  
  
"It's what they do with it," all the women say in perfect unison. Then our rambunctious laughter resumes, loud and even more turbulent than before.  
  
Finally, after a good hour of hesitantly revealing the happenings of mine and Tasuki's night together, they leave. And as they leave, I am given my reward by each of them--the month's wages of four whores. A very good amount of money. Even though they all know very well that Tasuki has become more than a mere customer to me, they still insist I take their money.  
  
I don't bother limping to try to prove my injured ankle. They think that it was just a clever ploy to get Tasuki to take me to my room. I doubt they know that I actually did hurt it--and that Tasuki was the one who assisted me in doing it.  
  
"It was the deal, m'girl!" Koi protests a little too loudly when I try one last time to give the money back to her. I know that Tasuki can hear. I just don't know how much he has heard, or how much of it he understands. I don't want the money, but I take it anyway.  
  
Just as Okichi is about to walk out the door, I take her arm and stop her. I wait until the others are downstairs before I speak.  
  
"You know he's still here, don't you? Do the others?" I whisper to her. She doesn't try to bullshit me, thank the gods.  
  
"Yes, I know," she answers, "But they don't. And it's better if you never tell them. They'll still find out about you two eventually...but they'll never betray you to Shingen, so don't worry about that. Not even Asako will. But still, don't let it go on for too long, Tansho." She frowns and pats my hand comfortingly. "You belong to the Black Dove. Have fun as long as you can, but not too long. Shingen isn't stupid. And you aren't either."  
  
She begins to walk away, but stops and turns around just before she reaches the stairs. "And you'd better use the hidden door in the linen room to get him out. It's at the end of the balcony, right next to your room. It leads out to the latrines...instead of sending him downstairs into the tavern. All our men use it when they visit us after hours..." She winks at me and grins, flipping her pearl-colored hair over her shoulder as she begins to walk down the stairs.  
  
"Okichi!" I call out after her. She turns and looks back at me. "Thank you." My words are so soft that I fear she didn't hear me. But I see her eyes light up, and I am relieved to know that she did.  
  
She smiles, but then shakes her head sadly. "Never tell a whore 'thank you', Tansho," she says, almost mournfully, "We're not used to it...and we don't need to be." She looks at me long and hard, as if trying to see within me. "I guess you did win after all, little Tansho," she says with a smirk. "I knew you would." Then she descends the stairs and goes to prepare the sake and beer for the night.  
  
I know that she won't tell. I know because I caught her with a lover not too long ago, and I never said a word of it to Shingen. I know that the others will never tell if they ever find out. They too have had countless lovers who they have had to keep secret from Shingen. And none of their lovers were ever discovered. And now that I have my first, I know that he won't be either.  
  
I know they won't tell because we trust each other. We always have and always will. They are all I have--and it is the same for each of them. I am all they have. And, until I die or am released from this hellish place, this is the way it will remain for me. For us.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Ah, the ever entertaining morning-after scenes. I thought of maybe adding a little half a lemon or something, but as you all know, morning breath (even fictional) can be a deadly killer that even the most fervent lovers try to avoid.  
  
Anyways, did Tasuki hear all the talk about the game? Will his and Tansho's new found love be able to survive long? Oh, the devious cliffhangers that make you want to hang me off a cliff!!! *Iseult suddenly realizes what she just said* Wow!! Am I a witty little authoress or what??!! ^_^  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: Thank you so much!! And sex is always worth the wait!! ^_^  
  
Shadow priestess: Her past is soon revealed, I promise!! But the suspense only makes finally finding everything out only better!  
  
Zerianyu: I wasn't annoyed.quite the opposite.very flattered!!  
  
Kitty Lynne: Long time no type, my friend!! ^_^ I loved that you mentioned the "pillow talk". You know, Cosmopolitan magazine says it's the best time to get a guy to admit he loves you! Uh-uh.that's right! ^_^ And 4 InuYasha novels!! You lucky little turd.I had to wait 3 whole months for EACH of mine!!! * fumes and glares are Kitty * ^_^ 


	13. I Understand

Disclaimer: I'm tired and I have a headache, so I'm not going to bother. Just take a wild guess as to what I would say...  
  
* Another Big Fat Warning* Sex, Sex, and even more sex for your imaginations to feast upon. One of my best lemons ever, in my opinion! ^_^ Oh, and there's a shit load of cussing in here too!!! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 13 I Understand  
  
I retreat back into my room and close the door behind me. I worry about what I will see and hear when I open my wardrobe doors. I know he heard something-but how much? The wardrobe doors are not as thick as I'd like them to be. But will he be angry with me? Will he never come back to the Black Dove? Will he never wish to see me again? For the first time in my life, I care if I see a man again or not.  
  
I have to take a few calming breaths before I reach for the wardrobe handles and pull open the doors. I watch in amusement as he gently untangles himself from my gowns so as not to leave a pile of them heaped on the floor. I know that he has heard. He is silent as he steps out. His demeanor is solemn, almost sorrowful. I would have expected him to be annoyed with me for shoving him in there, and would have been more than happy to hear his complaints and see the scowl on his face. But his eyes are fixed, and his mouth is drawn in a tight line. His body is rigid, and his lips are silent. I feel unnerved just being in his presence.  
  
When he finally composes himself and shuts the doors, he looks at me with such an expression that I stop breathing. I feel my heart collapse in on itself, and I must struggle to regain my breath. Oh, dear gods, my mind cries out in horror, He heard it all.  
  
I don't know whether or not I should speak. Thankfully, he speaks so that I don't have to.  
  
"And here I thought that all whores did was make money by fucking strangers," he says coldly and emotionlessly, "I guess I was wrong. They play games, too." He steps around me, and all I can so is watch in silence. "I guess I should feel honored, huh?"  
  
"Tasuki, please...don't," I begin. I try to say so much more, but my mind is spinning too wildly, trying to find a way of keeping him here. I have to make him understand. "Just listen..."  
  
"What the hell do ya think I was doing in your closet?" he snaps at me, "Thinking about asking ya if I can borrow one of your goddamn dresses?!"  
  
At first, I find myself recoiling at his unexpected harshness, but then I am annoyed with him and his foolishness.  
  
"I didn't want the money!" I cry, "We decided on the game long before I even spoke to you, Tasuki!" He is only staring at me, silently. "Do you remember when I stole your coin out of your pocket when you were going to the latrines? It was right before that that we made the deal." I pause again when I see the coldness of his face finally begin to melt. I know that he's listening, and I know that in his heart he wants to believe every word I say. "They even know that I never wanted you as a customer...but still they gave me the money because that was the deal we had agreed on. You heard everything else...didn't you hear that?"  
  
I suddenly feel exhausted. But I feel it is worth it. His eyes are no longer dark, and his face shows the deep lines of regret. Regret for speaking so harshly to me before.  
  
"What do you mean, 'they know'?" he asks, crossing his arms. I smile even though I try not to.  
  
"They are whores, Tasuki," I answer in an amazingly calm tone, "They have slept with a countless number of men for a countless number of years. They can tell when they or one like them wants something more from a man...than just his money..." I am silent. I let my words seep into his skin. I hope with all my being he understands their meaning.  
  
When his eyes lock on mine, I know he does.  
  
"On the veranda, when I told you I didn't want the gold coin...or anything...I meant it," I say, walking closer to him, "And I still don't." Slowly, just in case he still is angry with me, I lift my hand to his face and trace his hairline. "Please...believe me, Tasuki. I love money, but I love you more."  
  
My breath rushes from my lungs when he wraps his arms around my shoulders and presses me to him. I return his hug generously and gratefully, slipping my arms under his and grabbing handfuls of his black coat. I feel his breath stir my hair as he breathes deeply, taking me in. He is more than grateful that I have expressed my love so openly. He is overwhelmed. Just as I am overwhelmed that I still have him here with me.  
  
I almost begin to cry when I think of what might have happened. If he had not believed me and accepted me again. What would I have done? How would it have been possible to simply go on with my life as a harlot after being with him?  
  
"You need to go," I say, pulling away to look up at him. He looks back at me, and I am relieved to see that all the emptiness and coldness in his eyes has been replaced with the warmth and humor that I know all too well. "There's a hidden door down the hall that will lead you out to the latrines. If you try to go downstairs to the tavern, Shingen will see you." I pull away and take his hand in mine, leading him to the door. "Come on," I whisper when I have looked down the balcony hall and over the banister. When I am certain that no one is within our vicinity, I pull him with me out the door and into the hall. "Stay quiet," I whisper.  
  
We walk swiftly and silently to the door just beside mine. "Huh!" I whisper when we reach it and open it to reveal a narrow staircase. I am genuinely amazed to see such a thing here. I wonder if the women had it secretly built to smuggle their lovers out without Shingen knowing of them. Or perhaps the previous inhabitants of the building, whoever they might have been, used it. "And here I always thought it was a linen closet or something," I quietly reply.  
  
I nudge him forward onto the first step, but grab his coat collar and pull him to me again before he sets foot on it. I give him a swift but whole kiss on his mouth, then nudge him again. "Promise to come back tonight?" I ask as he begins to descend. He grins at me then lifts his chin as if to look down upon me.  
  
"As long as you don't shove me in your closet again in the morning," he smugly remarks.  
  
I laugh under my breath and nod in agreement.  
  
Then he is gone, and I return to my room, my heart free of all the things that once plagued me.  
  
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He keeps his promise. He is there again that night.  
  
I have to hop around a bit on my supposedly injured ankle to get Shingen to believe that I have no need for a Healer and can resume work. He finally agrees to let me go out on the floor, but demands that I go back to my room earlier than the others so as not to strain myself. I reluctantly agree even though I am overjoyed at the thought of being free of my customers early.  
  
Although it bothers me to no extent, I make rounds among my other clients before finally making my way to Tasuki's table near the back. He is alone.  
  
"Where are your friends?" I ask as I hop up onto the table, my legs dangling over the side. I press my palms to the smooth wood and lean back, crossing my ankles like a child.  
  
"They say I come here too often. They went to another tavern tonight," he answers. "But I like solitude. It's entertaining." He leans forward and lifts his eyebrows, telling me to lean towards him. I do so, and he whispers into my dark hair, "I made you a promise.and I feel I can better keep it if alone."  
  
I smile, but then frown. I have to discuss something with him. I know before I even begin to speak that I shouldn't mention it just yet. It's too early. I should try to avoid it for as long as possible, but I can't help but wonder if that will make it worse when it is finally time to speak of it. I decide that I have no choice but to say it now.  
  
"I have to tell you something," I begin, "And if we want to keep...doing this...then you have to understand this." He leans back in his chair, waiting patiently. "You know good and well what I do for a living, and you know that just because we're...you know...doesn't mean that I can just...stop." My mind scolds me for my childish mumbling, and I wish more than anything for the eloquent tongue of a scholar just now. I am surprised at how hard this really is.  
  
"I would like to stop my obligations if I could," I continue, " But I am who I am...and I can't change that. You have to swear to me..." I look over my shoulder quickly, then lean down over the table in front of him. "Swear that you won't let yourself get out of control if...if I have to...you know," I explain. I want to tell him bluntly not to let his jealousy get out of control if I have to do what my job requires. If I have to sleep with other men to make my wages. Gods, how I wish I could tell him the truth about me. The truth about the Black Dove and me. Perhaps that would make it easier for us, him knowing that I truly have no other choice but to do what I do. But, like I thought before, surely he would try to save me. And then it would all be ruined.  
  
At first he seems deaf to what I just said, but then he leans toward me and smiles a sad yet strangely meaningful smile. "I understand, Tansho," he says quietly. And that is all. He says nothing else to me, only those three words that fill the gaping hole inside of me that had been the very center of my fear. He understands.  
  
For just a moment, I think he is lying. He seems so calm, so truly...understanding. But when he looks down at his feet, I know that he understands he has no other choice for the time being. And I know that he loves me, for he is allowing himself to be blind to the one thing a lover should never be blind to. I am relieved, and I jump down from the table to stand by him.  
  
"Thank you," I whisper softly, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I'll be back in moment." I turn and walk off to the bar to pick up a pitcher of sake that a table of men ordered earlier. I pour it and bring it to them with out speaking a word.  
  
My perception of my occupation has altered forever with Tasuki's sad smile and simple words. I thought long ago, when I first came to this damned place of drunkenness and sex, that my life was over. But I lived. Somehow, I learned to survive; and, as the years went by, I found that my life here was indeed tragic, but not doomed. I have lived comfortably, and maybe even happily at some times. But now it has all vanished like a fog at noon, before my dark eyes. Perhaps I will leave some day. Perhaps I will walk away from this place, born from the devil's own seed, and be truly happy. Because I know that I truly hate this place now. When his words were so soft and untainted, calm and unangered, I knew that my eyes would never look at this place the same again. I am a stranger to it now. But only the gods know how much longer I will have to wander here, a stranger in this goddamned foreign land.  
  
I am deaf to the vulgar calls of the men to whose table I deliver the sake. I will try to continue my job, for my own sake; but I know it will be difficult for me-now that I love a man. I have to try in order to keep surviving, but maybe my days here are numbered. Perhaps I have opened a door that leads away from this place.  
  
I decide to give in and open my ears to the harsh voices and grunts of the drunken farmers and merchants before me. I flirt the best I can, but thankfully when I offer my services, they turn me down.  
  
"Spent all my money on sake, m'dear," one moans pitifully. Inside, my soul is rejoicing, but my whore's body in not used to rejection. I am unable to decide what to do. Should I simply accept the good fortune I have been given, or follow the whore's instincts that have been embedded in me and try my best to secure a client. Soon, my mind is too tired to battle, so I shrug and turn back to Tasuki's table. But he is not there.  
  
My mind reels. Did he lie when he told me he understood? Did he leave when he saw that I purposely and blatantly offered myself, looking for a customer? Oh, dear gods, did he lie to me? Did he leave me?!  
  
In a daze, I shuffle toward the back of the tavern. I pause at the door leading to the latrines. Maybe he just went to use the latrines. Hopeful, I open the door and step out into the cool air. My eyes have to wait a moment to adjust to the darkness, but they are interrupted and never get the chance. Suddenly, an arm is wrapped around my waist and a hand is clamped forcefully over my mouth before I can utter even a gasp. As a reflex, my body spasms in shock and I begin to kick and throw my arms over my head to try to strike whoever it is that has captured me. My fingernails make contact with skin and I scrape them until my attacker's arms loosen, a wail escaping his lips. In a wild panic, I convulse my body until my mouth is released. I spread my lips wide and suck in a deep breath to catapult from my lungs. But the hand has sealed itself over my mouth again and suddenly I am turned in the opposite direction. I find myself staring into Tasuki's golden green eyes, and I gasp in utter shock.  
  
"Would you calm the fuck down?!" he whispers madly, squeezing my cheeks with his fingers and letting my waist go. He sees that I've recognized him and takes his hand from my mouth to rub the scratch that I inflicted on his hand. "Damn it, Tansho," he says, "I didn't mean to scare ya' so damn bad! I just wanted to surprise ya!"  
  
My breath is as wild as a lion's. I press a hand to my chest to try to slow my heart before it breaks free of my ribcage. I want to slap the hell out of him for scaring me. I want to curse at him until I can think of no more words. But all I can do is stare at him in disbelief that he is still here. He hasn't left. He hasn't left me.  
  
"Oh, Tasuki," I breathe, moving into him and resting my forehead against his shoulder, "You scared the goddamned hell out of me." He wraps his arms around me and hugs me close to his body.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispers, laughter on his voice, "Do you forgive me?"  
  
I grin into his shoulder and sneak a peek through the back door of the tavern. It had not closed all the way when I came out, and I can see a few people through the crack and hear their haughty laughter and drunken voices. I suddenly have a daring and absolutely exhilarating idea that makes my grin widen.  
  
"Maybe..." I whisper alluringly, grabbing the teal blue collar of his coat and slowly spinning us around so that my back is pressed against the wall. I pull him against me until he is nearly crushing me. I yank hard on his collar with both hands to pull his face down to mine. I mold my lips to his eagerly and forcefully and let my arms swim around his neck and clasp together to prevent him from escaping.  
  
Heat grows between our molded bodies. I feel my skin suddenly flush as Tasuki's hands find their courage and begin to explore me as they had done so eagerly the night before. It doesn't take long for his touch to charm me and my already enamored body.  
  
My womanhood is already burning between my legs with such a force that I fear my insides will catch fire. He senses my desperateness and presses his body tighter to mine, revealing his own desire in the form of his hardening manhood. I laugh into his mouth as he curls one arm around my waist and another under my thigh. Suddenly, I am in the air and my feet are dangling beneath me. He wraps one of my legs tightly around his waist and the other I lock around his thigh, just under his hip. I take one of my hands away from his neck to begin work on his coat, unhooking it to gain access to his pants as his mouth runs wild over my throat and chest. When I have succeeded in unhooking his coat, I simply throw it open, not even bothering to take it off. I lower one foot onto the ground to release him from the strained fabric of his trousers. He lifts me again, helping me to resume my previous position, locked onto his body. His breath comes in excited labored gasps as I grab a handful of the hem of my gown and begin to frantically pull it up my thighs to my hips, exposing all of myself to the chilled air.  
  
I let out a delighted sigh at the sensation of the chilled air on my bare skin. Tasuki suddenly presses his mouth to my open lips, taking advantage of their present condition.  
  
I gasp in unbelief at the audacity of what we are doing, in full view of anyone who happens to walk out the back door. But the thought only makes me curl my arms tighter around Tasuki and arch my back, begging him to do as we both wish. Then, in a wondrously smooth and gentle thrust, I am full of him.  
  
My mouth gapes open as he brings an arm up above my head to balance us against the wall. And as our mad and frantic rythm begins, I lean my head forward and press my cheek to his, wishing every part of us to have contact with each other. I kiss him wildly, then have to break it to breathe as he thrusts deeper than I expected. I press my chest to his and squeeze him with my thighs, holding on for my life as he moves within me. He leans forward, pressing my shoulder blades and the back of my head firmly to the wall. My shoulders scrape up and down against the rough wall as he thrusts again and again, but I don't notice anything save for the wonderful friction building and building between my legs. My back is arched, pressing my core firmly against him, giving his access to every part of me, making my mouth gape open in a silent moan. I squeeze my eyes closed and listen in amazement to the quiet, gentle noises we make, so different from the insane movements of our body. He begins to pant and gasp like a wild animal, exciting me beyond comprehension, and I soon find that my own voice is joining him. I hear his fingernails scraping the wood above my head in his ecstasy, and I reach one of my own hands over my head and tangle my fingers together with his. He squeezes my hand desperately, pushing it against the wall with his, palm to palm, trying to hold himself back for me, until I'm ready. And soon I am.  
  
The building friction between my legs begins to quake slowly. It continues to build until suddenly my body is convulsing and trembling madly as my pleasure is released upon me in one long, powerful wave. And, before it is over, he joins me, quickened considerably by the tightening of my womanhood.  
  
I hear both of our lungs take in monstrous breaths, and I know he hears too, for his eyes are staring at me in fear. I open my mouth anyway to release my voice along with my body, feeling that I will not be fully satisfied unless I can cry out as I so need and want to do. But thankfully, he lets go of my waist just in time and presses his hand firmly to my lips, keeping me from screaming into the night air. Then I see that he will be unable to stop his own cry, and I quickly seal my free hand over his mouth as well. And we stand there silently, our heaving voices and cries muffled by our palms pressed to each other's lips as our bodies tremble. His warmth fills me to my brim, and I arch my back further at the familiar and yet strangely alien sensation.  
  
For what seems like hours, we stand in silence, our quaking voices already no more than sighs and heavy pants. The strength of my legs around him and my back pressed against the wall are the only things keeping me from falling to the ground. One of our hands is still pressed firmly to each other's mouths while the other two are intertwined tightly above my head. Our foreheads are pressed together, and the heat of our bodies continues to flow between us like an untamed force of nature.  
  
Finally, when we are both sure that neither of us will cry out, we gently unseal each other's mouths. I let out a deep sigh as he tenderly disconnects our bodies and lowers me slowly to the ground, holding me tightly for a moment until I am steady on my feet. I then pull Tasuki to me and allow him to lean against me as his body rests and his strength returns. The character on his forearm is a bright, flaming red. Even though his heavy coat covers it, I can see its reddish light shining brightly out of the cuff. It brightens and dims with the fluctuation of his breathing, finally evening out when his breath becomes calmer. I continue to watch it is fascination.  
  
Our hands are still tightly clenched together against the wall, and I have no desire to release him from my hold. I lower our hands from the wall to our sides and wrap his arm around me. He does the same with his remaining arm, and I lean into his chest.  
  
I know without a doubt that we would have startled the entire city with our cries if we hadn't have been quick enough and smart enough to cover our mouths. My sex-drunken mind laughs at the thought of the people of the city running to the Black Dove tavern to see a redheaded man and a whore pressed against the wall by the latrines, fucking their brains out. I let a laugh escape my lips even though I try to hold it in.  
  
"What's so funny?" Tasuki asks, his voice slow and drunken from our lovemaking.  
  
"Nothing," I say. "You know. I think you've asked me that damn question at least a dozen times since I've met you." He straightens himself to look down at me. His eyes and skin are glowing in the dim light streaming from the crack in the back door. He smiles stupidly, but in obvious happiness. His tiny fangs gleam maliciously, and I am unable to resist the urge to kiss him again.  
  
"That was fun," he says with a child-like grin on his face, apparently oblivious to what I just said to him, "Let's do it again."  
  
I burst into a fit of soft laughter and hug him tightly, pressing my face into the warmth of his shoulder. "Maybe later," I reply, "Let's rest for a little while..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Just to let you know...I really really really liked writing this part. I love to let my creativity get the best of me sometimes!! ^_^ And once again, I found that I'm much more of a tasteful lemon writer than I let myself believe. You may not think along the same lines as me, but compaired to other lemons out there.mine are just a little basket of limes and oranges. ^_^  
  
Well, does Tasuki really not care about Tansho's profession, or is he having to hide his jealousy? Will Tansho's new perception of herself and what she does change her life? Just how long will she be able to continue being a whore? And what the hell is the deal with the poor woman's past??!! Ohhhh, the questions!!!  
  
P.S. So very sorry for how late this update was!! I've been having to serious crack down on my college admissions lately, and so far things aren't going too good. I can't get into the college I want on my SAT scores, so I have to depend on my ACT scores to get me in!!! And I'm still waiting for them!!! I'm going crazy!  
  
Thanks for all the great reviews!! I love all of you!! ^_^ 


	14. My First and My Last

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone but Tansho and my other OC's, so keep your damn hands off them!  
  
Warning: Some cussing and a bit of violence (the small amount that I mentioned in the overall fic warnings). Not too much though, so don't freak out.  
  
Chapter 14 My First and My Last  
  
We return to the tavern, and even though I nudge him twice to try to get him to stop, he continues to brush the front of his black coat to make sure his arousal is completely gone. I myself cannot help but waddle like a pregnant woman every few steps. The junction of my thighs is still somewhat tender from the intense attention it received against the back wall. But it is late; the men are beyond drunk, and the whores are tired, so I believe that no one notices Tasuki's fidgeting hands and my attempts to conceal my bow-legged walking with a continuous fluttering of my gown.  
  
"I should be getting back to the palace," he says when we reach the bottom of the stairs. My eyebrows quickly knit together and I look up at him in confusion.  
  
"The palace?" I say, "As in the emperor's home?"  
  
He nods as if it is common knowledge, but then he sees that he has not explained any of it to me. "I'm sorry," he quickly replies, "I never told you did I?"  
  
"Told me what?"  
  
"Remember when I told you that I am a warrior of Suzaku?" he asks, lowering his voice upon the mention of the phoenix god. "Well the emperor is a warrior as well, and until the ceremony to summon Suzaku is held, he has invited me and the other warriors to stay in the palace."  
  
I nod my understanding, but am almost instantly disappointed. "Well, I guess that I'll never be able to come visit you there," I reply. "I was hoping that you were staying somewhere close by the tavern. I never thought you would be living in the palace." I know that my disappointment shows greatly on my face, but I don't care.  
  
"Of course you could visit me, Tansho," he answers, "I don't see why His Highness wouldn't let you."  
  
At first I am elated that I may have the chance to see the palace and its great halls rumored to be tiled with huge slabs of diamonds, but then the realization of my situation hits me. Shingen would never allow me to go to the palace if my only reason for doing it was to see a man. A lover. I frown and slowly look away as the frown deepens.  
  
"No," I say barely in a whisper, "Never mind it. We're not allowed to the leave the brothel without Shingen's permission. And he would never believe that I was invited to the palace." Instantly, I see Tasuki's discomfort begin to rise to the surface. He runs his fingers through his fiery hair to occupy his fidgeting hands and shifts from one foot to the other, trying to control the obvious anger that is building up inside of him at the mention of my pimp.  
  
I have known from the beginning that Tasuki has no liking of the bulky tavern master. He knows who he is and the power that he has over my life, and for this his rage stirs at the mere mention of his name. I see now that he wants to tell me to defy him for once, to not care what he says. He wants to tell me that Shingen doesn't own me, and that I have the power to just walk away. But he doesn't know. He doesn't know the truth, and I am thankful that he is still silent. I am so thankful that he isn't encouraging me to defy the one man I cannot dare to defy.  
  
But his murky green eyes are not silent; they scream at me and plead with me. And as I stand here looking up at him, both of us just staring at each other, I once again have a great desire to reveal all to him. But I remember my place and what would happen to us if he heard the truth, and I force myself to keep quiet. It tears at my heart-having to keep him in the darkness like this.  
  
"It is late, after all," I say, laying a hand on his chest and smiling. His face softens and he smiles back, but only with half of his heart. "Come back tomorrow night?" I ask hopefully, my eyes widening to entice him further.  
  
"What else would I do?" he says with a wider smile, flashing his tiny fangs in the dim light of the tavern. And with that he is gone, his heavy boots echoing across the tavern floor as he walks away.  
  
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But the next night, he does not come. I wander the tavern, trying desperately to create the illusion that I am working, but my gown hasn't been opened for a customer all night. I cannot bear to touch a man tonight. I long for one who is not here. Even though I know it's foolish and am annoyed by its presence, I am already feeling the suffocating crush of monogamy on my heart.  
  
But Shingen's eyes are on me, glaring, asking me why I take no men upstairs. I have an answer for him, but I dare not speak it. So, when a thick-waisted man with eyes as small as pinheads gropes my womanhood and asks how much for my services, I tell him two gold coins and lead him to a room upstairs.  
  
I feel my body move beneath the sweating giant, my smooth skin beginning to chafe against his; but my mind and soul are elsewhere, floating between the worlds and searching for him. The one man who made me love him; the one man who I made love me. I wonder why the night is almost over and he is not here. He said he would come, and he has never lied to me-- at least not until now.  
  
When the man is done he grunts his satisfaction and rolls off me. As soon as he is on his feet, he tosses the gold coins on the bed where I lay, my body still half exposed. He barely dresses himself before lumbering out the door and slamming it behind him. And for the first time since I was twelve, I draw myself into a tight ball of flesh and press my eyes closed. For the first time since I was shoved in that room with my first man, a mumbling idiot who tore my clothes and pulled my hair, I let myself cry. And even though my anger is far more powerful than my sadness, I don't give a fuck. And I cry. I cry so hard that I fear my eyes will dry up.  
  
But I soon realize that I am a fool. I am a stupid, idiotic girl who is love with a man whom I barely know. And I also realize that he is a fool for daring to love a whore. It is the oldest goddamn common sense known to man--never fall in love with a whore. And yet he has defied it-or he has no common sense.  
  
But does he love you?, my mind taunts, He isn't here is he? He told you he would come, and he always has...but tonight he decided that he was finally tired of you. A couple of good fucks were all that you were worth to him.  
  
I sit up and cover my exposed breasts with the wrinkled top of my gown. They ache from being crushed beneath the giant fool.  
  
With a violent swipe of my hand over my tear-socked cheeks, I stop crying and get off the bed, grabbing my two gold coins as I go. Perhaps he will come, perhaps he won't. Either way, I am still a whore. Either way, I am still a slave. And I can never leave this place of reeking men and hardened women, for I am a part of them--now and forever. I smile a faint smile at my revelation. Perhaps my eyes have finally been opened, and I can rid myself of this man who dared to try to awaken a whore form her sins and show her love. Or perhaps all I have done is make my soul realize just how valuable this man's love is--how rare it is for my kind to find such luck. And I know as I stand in the door, the tainted gold coins burning a hole in my palm, that that is what I have done. He has made me realize how lucky I am to have found him.  
  
Even if he never comes to the Black Dove again, his body will be burned into mine in a way no other man's has. I love him. He will be my first and my last love. And if he does come again, and continues coming to me until I am old and gray and my body is too feeble to give and receive pleasure any longer, I will still continue loving him just as I did that first day. But if he does not, if he has in fact abandoned me in my grief, then my love for him will still be as strong as the iron fan he carries on his back.  
  
I realize that the gods have given whores only one chance to love; and they either take it fiercely and keep it close to them, or let it slip away slowly like their beauty and youth. I will have no other chances to love a man after I have loved Tasuki. He will be my only love, and strangely this comforts me, even if there is a chance I may never see his face again. I am comforted because I know that I have two choices--I will either fly away with Tasuki and love him until we lie in our graves together, or I will love him and lose him, and never have to relive it all over again with another man--because there will never be another man. I am no fool. Of course, there will be other men whom I will lead to my bed, but there will never be another man whom I will lead to my heart.  
  
I tuck the coins between my breasts and return to the tavern, my mind still full of thoughts of Tasuki, but no longer troubled.  
  
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The tables are soon empty and the whores are soon retiring to their rooms. Each one hands Shingen his demanded fee, half their nights' earnings, before shuffling up the stairs to clean themselves the best they can of the men they fucked. As I pass Shingen, I hand him one of gold coins I earned from my only customer. His face falls like melting wax and even though I try to walk past him, he grabs my wrist and jerks me back in front of him.  
  
"You think you're gonna fuck with me, Tansho?" he growls. I breathe in deeply, trying to distract my mind from the numbing pain of his hand clutching my wrist. "What the hell is this shit?" He thrusts the coin in my face then hurls it to the ground by my feet. "Well?"  
  
"I tried, Shingen," I whimper, "But they just didn't seem too interested tonight..." I try to sound nonchalant, just as I always am around my pimp.  
  
"Who the hell are you trying to fool, girl?!" he yells. I know that the other harlots are watching from the second floor. Shingen's eyes fall on them and he yells at them to get in their rooms. I hear scuttling and the slamming of four doors before he returns his attention to me.  
  
"Shingen, I..." I stutter. But I am only slapped sharply on the cheekbone by his thick hand. The end of his middle finger hits my eye and I clutch at it as my vision blurs painfully. One whole side of my face burns like it was rubbed with oil and set on fire. I hold it miserably as he grabs my hair and jerks my face up to meet his. I stumble, trying to keep my own weight from ripping my hair from my scalp.  
  
"Now listen to me," he breathes into my face like a bear, "You've been slacking off for the past week, and I am sick of loosing the money that you could be making. So, unless you want your skinny little ass out on the street with the common bitches, you get back to work and make up for the goddamned money you've cost me!!!"  
  
He takes my upper arm in his iron grip and hurls me onto the steps. I thrust my hands out in front of me to try to soften the fall, but am too late and end up on my stomach, my arms stretched out in front of me. My stomach and breastbone scream as the sharp pain from the edges of the steps shoots through me. I scramble awkwardly to my feet and flee upstairs, both my hands and feet clawing at the stairs to propel me forward. I reach my room and throw myself inside, slamming the door behind me. I want to fall to my knees and howl in the pain of body and soul that I am in, but I simply let my chin fall to my chest and stare at my bare feet.  
  
When I have calmed my frightened heart, I walk to the mirror at my vanity table to inspect the damage done to me. My entire eye is already swollen and bruised to a light bluish hue. I am shocked at its rapid transformation. I close it and gently rub it, but my vision remains blurred when I open it again. I pray that it will return to normal by morning. The apple of my cheek is also beginning to bruise, mingling with the edges of my blackening eye, making one side of my face look like a rotten peach. I feel I will retch at the sight of me.  
  
I pour water from a small pitcher into a basin and dip a rag in it. I let it soak, then squeeze it gently to get the excess water out. I then lean my head back and place the cool rag on my swollen eye and cheekbone, hoping that it will help somewhat. I sit like that for quite a long while, my bruised face covered by the cloth, until I hear a soft tapping on my door, almost too light to hear. I ignore it, but then hear it again, louder this time.  
  
I put the rag down and walk to my door quietly. I think it is one of the other women, come to comfort me the best she knows how, telling me that Shingen has always been an asshole, but that dealing with him is far better than living in the streets. I press my ear to the rough wood and hear the tapping again.  
  
"Koi? Okichi?" I whisper into the door.  
  
"No, Tansho," is the soft reply, "It's me, Tasuki."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Sad chapter isn't it?? Hate to leave you hanging like this, but I've done it before and I'll probably do it again. ^_^ Hee hee, evil me!!  
  
Well, will Tansho's revelation earlier prove to be true? Is Tasuki the only one she'll ever be able to love? Is she doomed to remain a harlot forever, or will she be saved? And will Tasuki notice the remnants of Tansho's brutal run-in with Shingen? If so, what will he do?  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: Yep, I loved that last lemon. It was about as spur-of-the- moment as you can get. ^_^ And I'm glad my fic made your day a bit better. And.no more swearing at your school?! It's weird hearing that.I go to a Christian high school, and well.I can't remember ever hearing cussing (hmmm.wonder why I do it so much at home?) ^_^  
  
MeKI: That's so cool about you and your friends!! * beams * I'm so flattered that you guys liked my fic so much!  
  
Shadow priestess: Thanks for offering your SAT scores, hon.but, yep, that's kinda impossible. ^_^ I've decided to use my ACT scores instead of my SATs for my college applications, too. Oh, and a little advice for you when you start looking for colleges..start looking as early as possible!!! I can't stress that enough!! I've got less than five months before I graduate, and I'm still looking for a good college (I'm going to look at one on Monday, actually). You probably got a few more years before this stuff, but still. ^_^  
  
P.S. to all reviewers: I'm so sorry that this update took so damn long. I'm not being negligent..just berated with college and school. Thanks for bearing with me though!! ^_^  
  
Love all you!!! 


	15. I'll Take Care of You

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone but Tansho, so stay the hell away from her!!  
  
* !!Yet Another Big Fat Warning!! * Yep, you guessed it.more sex!! ^_^ I sure do like to churn out them lemons, don't I!!?? But I'm not involved one bit in it, I swear!!! It's all Tansho and Tasuki.they're too damn horny!!! They force me to write every single one of these lemons.at gun point!! I swear it!! ^_^  
  
Chapter Fifteen I'll Take Care of You  
  
I am overwhelmed with relief and happiness. All my mind can process are the simple words, he came back, he came back. And for a long moment I stand at the door, knowing that he is on the other side of it, and I allow myself to be a simpleton fool in love. I forget about the bruised appearance of my face and quickly open the door for him; but when I see the shocked expression in his eyes, I know that I should have done something to try to cover up Shingen's marks.  
  
"Tansho..." he whispers, his eyes instantly locking on the deformed bruise now covering half of my face. I am myself amazed at how quickly it formed, knowing that the only way it could have grown so fast is from the severity of the damage. "Tansho...what happened?" He asks, but I can see in his ethereal eyes that he knows just as well as I do. But, like the fool I am, my first thought is to lie to him.  
  
"I stepped on the hem of my dress when I was walking up to my room and fell on the stairs," I say too hastily, but still hoping that he'll believe me for the simple reason of wanting to believe me. I know that he doesn't want to believe that someone struck me. I can tell by the way he shuffles into my room as quietly as he can, but trips over his own boot in the process and nearly falls to the floor. His mind is trying to process my words. Either foolish rage or loving worry in blinding him--perhaps both.  
  
I don't bother to say anything else. I close the door behind him and invite him to sit on my bed. But he refuses and continues to stand in front of me as motionless as a tree in the forest. When I try to go to my vanity table to reapply the cloth, he takes my arm and holds me still.  
  
"Please don't lie to me," he says with odd calmness. I want to laugh. If he only knew the lies my mouth had already told him. But I lower my head instead of laughing at him and gently pry his fingers from my arm.  
  
"Why do you even bother to ask; you know who did it, Tasuki," I say, surprised at myself that I actually said it aloud.  
  
"Shingen... your pimp," he says. It is partially a question, but in the most part, it is a cold statement. For a moment, I am relieved at how calm he appears to be. But I wonder if his anger is stirring wildly in his insides, waiting to be provoked further.  
  
"Yes," I answer, "He was angry that I haven't been sleeping with as many customers as I used to. He says that I'm costing him good money."  
  
I feel his eyes move to my face. I lift my own eyes to meet his. There is a strange expression etched on his tanned, perfect features. I am confused at first, wondering what he is thinking, why he is silent.  
  
"It's my fault," he finally says. I knit my eyebrows together. "It's my fault, isn't it Tansho?" I am shocked at his simple and soft words. I expected him to explode in anger and tear the door of my room down in his haste to burn Shingen to ashes with his iron fan.  
  
"How could it be your fault?" I ask, bewildered, "You're not the one who sleeps with men for money." Then, like another great blow to my bruised face, I understand. He knows that I have tried to stop sleeping with so many customers, on account of the affair I am having with him. And because of this, Shingen became angry with me. I want to fall to the floor and wrap my arms around myself in defeat. I feel so foolish for not seeing the obvious. I open my mouth to speak to him, to tell him that it's not his fault, but nothing comes out. I just stand there in front of him, my mouth a gaping hole in my bruised face.  
  
"Tasuki," I whimper like a child, holding my arms out to him, begging him to pick me up and rock me to sleep. He rushes forward and scoops me up as if I am as light as the air itself. He cradles me gently in his warm arms, whispering undecipherable words to me. I cannot understand anything he says, my mind is too wracked with guilt and anger. I feel diseased and exposed to the elements of the world, waiting to be devoured. And I feel that he is the only thing that can protect me from everything; from Shingen, from my past, from all the pain that was inflicted upon me when all I could do was lie still and take it.  
  
"I was only a child, goddamn it," I cry out softly, fighting my thoughts, not knowing what it is in the depths of my heart that is compelling me to speak my secrets "I was just a little girl..." I begin to sob into Tasuki's black coat. My tears sting my injured, blurry eye, but I am oblivious to the pain. "I was only a little girl."  
  
Tasuki doesn't try to pry into my mind; he doesn't say anything. He just walks silently to my bed and lays me down on the cool linens, smoothing the dark brown hair away from my tear-soaked face as he sits beside me. I roll to my side and clutch at him, grabbing the collar of his coat and pulling him down beside me. He resists me at first, but then eases into a reclining position at my side and curls his arms around my trembling body. I bury my face in his neck, wrapping one hand under his arm and over his shoulder to pull him closer to me. I curl my other arm to my chest, between our bodies, for warmth.  
  
"I won't let him hit you again, Tansho," Tasuki whispers in my ear. "I won't let anyone hurt you again." I feel his fingers running through my hair, smoothing it over my back. "I'll take care of you."  
  
I have so much to say, so many questions for him, so many secrets I want to whisper to him. But I am content in the way we are at the moment, and I don't want either of us to speak any more. So I pull away from his neck and turn my face upwards to his.  
  
His beauty never ceases to make me breathless. I let myself indulge in the perfection of his lips, the almost unnoticeable slant of his eyes, the bronze overtone of his skin. I wish I could forever see him this way, the way he was when he kept his promise and made another.  
  
I wait until he looks down at me, then I move closer to his face and mold my lips to his. I unwind my arm from around his shoulder and replace it behind his neck, pulling him harder to me. I feel his hand press against my back to pull my body closer to his. I wrap my leg around his and open my mouth, inviting him further. For a long time we lie there, kissing each other gently, then desperately, them ravenously. And soon I am tugging anxiously at his belt and he is peeling my gown from my shoulders, his cold hands searching for the warmth of my bare skin. I should have figured a long time ago that I would never be able to get close to him without wanting to undress him.  
  
I undo his belt, then quickly succeed in removing his heavy overcoat. I move on top of him and break our fierce kisses to sit up, pulling the collar of his shirt to tell him to sit up as well. He obeys, his eyes never leaving mine as I untuck the white shirt from his pants and pull it up over his outstretched arms, instantly falling on his naked chest when I have finished. I push him on his back again and begin my slow travels across his shoulders, chest, and stomach. I start below his chin, kissing the soft place above the apple of his throat. He leans his head back, giving me full access to wherever my mouth wants to go. I move to his jaw and ears, taking extra care to tease him with gentle kisses on the earlobe that I learned on the first night I touched him would excite him. I stop kissing his neck when I reach the sunken place on his shoulder, just above his collarbone. I can feel his blood throb beneath my lips when I kiss him there, like water trapped under ice.  
  
I continue my explorations down his chest, running my fingers over his shoulders and down his arms as I kiss his nipples. He gasps at the sudden contact, but soon relaxes and settles against my pillows when I move my hands down to his stomach, tracing the faint outline of the muscles beneath his skin. And as I work, I remember yet again that this skin was one of the first places I touched him, one of the first places to receive me. Perhaps that is why I am so enchanted by it, its texture and warmth. I trail my fingers below his navel and feel his muscles clench in excitement.  
  
When I crawl farther backwards to pull his boots off and toss them on the floor, I look up and see him in the dimness of my room, barely lighted by an oil lamp, his entire body a collaboration of beauty. The color of his skin, the curved muscles of his shoulders and chest, everything about him seems surreal, an illusion. I stare silently and find that my mind cannot comprehend what it is being exposed to. I crawl back up to him on my hands and knees and lie on his chest, letting my face hover directly above his.  
  
"You're so beautiful," I say, my voice void of anything but enchantment. He seems bewildered at my bluntness, but his eyes shine at my words, showing how flattered he truly is. "I want to make you happy," I say, cupping his face in my hands. I smooth my thumbs across the paper- thin skin beneath his eyes and watch in fascination as he blinks in reflex. "I want to please you." What I truly want is to tell him is everything that is tangled inside my mind. I would give my soul to all the demons of hell to untangle everything and lay it out for him to see. All of it, everything that I am. Everything that I want to become. I want to let him see everything. "I want to make you happy, Tasuki," I repeat.  
  
"You already have," he answers me, taking my own face in his hands, "You've done that, and much more..." His lips spread in the uneven smirk that has become his trademark, causing one shiny fang to pop out. "Hell, you made me love you. And if you cured me of my dislike of women, then I don't think there is much else to be done." He pulls me down and engulfs my lips with his in a fiery kiss. I settle against him and let him kiss my lips and hands, my neck and shoulders, and when his hands hook the fabric of my gown that covers my shoulders, I sit up and let him pull it down to where he pleases. And I hold still as he unties the knot of my sash and pulls open my gown to reveal me. His hands touch me carefully and gently, obviously afraid that Shingen might have battered other parts of me other than my face. His eyes wander over my face, but are undisturbed at the sight of the ugly blue mark that blemishes it. They harden when they see it, but not out of disgust. I pray that he means what he told me; I do hope that he will protect me forever.  
  
He suddenly sits up, taking me with him, and leans forward into me. I feel a rush of heat as his lips connect with my neck, kissing and sucking gently before moving lower. I moan at the soft warmth caused by his breath on my skin and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. I let out a shocked gasp when he unexpectedly seals his lips around my nipple. I brace myself for the pain, but then happily realize that I am with Tasuki and not a customer who usually bites me until I scream in agony. I lean my head back happily and let his arms support me as he kisses and suckles my breasts like they were the essence of life itself, and I quickly learn that when the administrator is gentle, the sensations are unbelievable. I fall upon him again, causing us to lie down again, when he has taken in his fill with his eyes and mouth. I let him pet my back and play with my hair, soon discovering that he has taken a strange liking to my waist-length tresses. He takes a strand and wraps it around his fingers, then unwinds it so it forms a curl.  
  
But soon, I am hungry to take again, and not to give. I pull myself away from his chest slowly and lean over him to kiss his forehead, moving down the bridge of his nose until I am sealed against his lips. And as I kiss him, I trail my hands down to his stomach and begin work on his pants. When I have undone them, he is more than eager to help me pull them down and toss them to the air, where they flutter and fall upon the pile of our other clothes.  
  
"Sit up," I whisper to him. He lifts his eyebrows in question, but does as I say and lifts himself on his elbows until he is sitting with his back pressed against the smooth headboard of my bed.  
  
I then straddle him and press myself to his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep him as close to me as possible. He sees what I want, and kisses me deeply, so deep that I feel his fangs graze sharply over my tongue, before moving his arms around my waist. One settles lightly on my hip, but the other presses between my shoulder blades to keep me firmly against his chest. In an instant I feel my womanhood come alive as it is pressed to the hardness of him. I let out a long gasp, then sigh into his mouth and grind myself slowly against him, dying of excitement of what is to come. But he refuses to let me move, and when I break the kiss to try to take control, he presses his lips to mine again and again, making me wait, making me kiss him.  
  
His fingers suddenly move between my thighs and touch my wetness in curiosity. I tighten my grip on his shoulders as he explores me, making sure to keep well away from my core to heighten my desperation. I want to scream at him and beg him, but I lay my head against his naked shoulder and breathe deeply as I ripen against his roaming fingers, thoroughly enjoying his tentative explorations.  
  
Soon, his hand emerges from the junction of my thighs and wraps itself around my waist again. And in a silent and gentle movement, he lifts my body slightly above his, and gently lowers me again until my womanhood is surrounding him. I crush myself to him as the sensation of finally being united cascades through me, and I bite my lip to keep from sinking my teeth into his shoulder. We sit still for a moment as he gives me time to adjust to him and get myself comfortable in this strange position, and he waits for me to begin our motions. And when I do move, I am overwhelmed by the feelings, knowing that I am the one creating them. For a moment, I am baffled, for I have fucked a countless number of men this way. I have no idea why the sensations are so different, so much more pleasurable. But when Tasuki takes control with me and begins lifting my body gently and slowly, rubbing my breasts against his chest and squeezing my waist and back with his hands, I quickly realize the difference.  
  
Before, the only part of my body that touched my clients' was my lower half. But I am pressing Tasuki's entire upper body to mine, holding onto him as he holds onto me. And I realize that our connection in other parts of our bodies besides our sexes is what is causing this new sensation to awaken in me.  
  
So I cling tighter to him and move with him, rocking and stroking in a motion that we just flow with nonchalantly. I curl my hands around his neck and run my fingers madly through his red hair as his pace quickens within me, causing me to lose control of the movement of my body. I bring my legs away from his thighs and try to swing them around his back so that I am nearly sitting on him, with him holding all my weight. But I get my foot tangled in a linen and am unable to loosen it. He notices and slows our thrusting to take my leg beneath the knee and pull it around him, instantly creating a completely different sense of pleasure between my thighs. I sigh at the new feeling and fall against Tasuki heavily, not knowing how much longer I can last.  
  
He and I begin again quickly, moving up and down as well as backward and forward in a rocking motion that causes his back to hit against the headboard forcefully more than once, making him scowl then smirk drunkenly. I am no longer able to control my voice and begin to moan and whimper in ecstasy; and, even though he tries his best to stay silent as well, his moans soon grow louder than mine. And we soon discover to our amusement that we are fueled by each others voices and bravely allow ourselves to get louder and louder until my mouth is open in a silent cry, and he is burying his face in my hair to try to keep his moans under control. They vibrate on my sweat-soaked skin, echoing inside my head with each movement of him inside of me, and I answer back enthusiastically.  
  
"I'll take care of you," he mumbles into my hair, his body moving wildly beneath me, thrusting deeply into me. "I'll take care of you, Tansho...I promise." My mind is enthralled by the sudden sound of him speaking to me, and I instantly feel the pleasurable sensation in the junction of my thighs intensify, blooming deep within me.  
  
"Keep talking!" I gasp into his ear, exhaling violently as I crush him tighter to my breasts.  
  
"What do I say?" he answers, his voice nothing more than a whisper, as equally exhausted as mine.  
  
"Anything!" I cry out frantically, pushing my body down on his, causing him to release a sudden, deep moan that excites me even further.  
  
When he regains his breath, he obeys my request and begins speaking between gasps and moans, most of his sentences no more than mumblings and less than three words long. He speaks whatever pops into his mind, but they are still unexplainably riveting to my senses. They excite me beyond imagination, and I revel in the altering pitches and tones of his beautiful, heavily accented voice.  
  
My body begins to tremble wildly at the continuous sound of his voice in my ear. I clutch him harder and harder until it feels as if we are being permanently sealed together, and only then does my womanhood begin to convulse around him as I am pushed over the edge. I lock my ankles together behind his back and press my knees into his sides. I lean back, and he leans forward into me, pressing his cheek firmly to the heat of my chest as I release myself. I try not to open my mouth in the scream that I know is begging to come out. Even though I am able to repress a shriek, I must allow my voice to release in some way. So I press my cheek against Tasuki's and moan deeply into his ear, begging him to join me and not leave me to take this alone.  
  
As if he understood my plea, he follows close behind me with a deep, tortured moan just as soul piercing as mine. He grips my hips and waist desperately as he releases himself, his essence flowing silently and warmly deep into me as he pants and cries out into my hair, unable to hold his own voice at bay. He leans harder into me, moving me with him. I whisper his name with the last remained strength that I hold and collapse on his shoulder, our numb arms still encircling each other.  
  
We sit for several minutes in this position, my body on top of his, our arms tightly wound around each other, my legs embracing his sides. I brush sweat-soaked strands of red hair off his forehead and cheeks, and kiss him swiftly and gently over and over again, making the heightened sensations of our body last even longer. He runs his hands up and down my back in a painfully slow motion, pressing gently into my muscles to loosen and relax them. I keep us tightly connected to each other, and look in his eyes as I try to discern what he is thinking, what his mind is saying to him. He has always seemed so content in my presence, so happy and satisfied. I find it amazing how unselfish he is, how fervently he wishes to please me. And it all makes me want to please him more, to thank him. I wonder how a man like him came to be, how he can be so funny and silly and make me laugh constantly, and yet be so loving and emotional and make me love him so much that I feel I will burst.  
  
When he is no longer able to hold himself up in a sitting position, he slowly scoots away from the headboard and gently lowers himself to the bed, taking me down with him. I unwrap my legs from around him as he lays on his back and I quietly move off him, disconnecting us. I settle into his side, molding the outline of my body to his, and kiss his shoulder. I want to sleep, but my mind is far too stimulated to allow rest; so I press myself to him and drape and arm over his stomach, whish is still heaving from our activities. He curls me further into him with an arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder. I look up at him to see his eyes wanting to close, but refusing to. He is obviously plagued with the same predicament as me, and I wonder how long it will take before our exhaustion catches up with us and we are able to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, yet another chapter full of lemon, lemon, and even more lemon (One of best, I must say ^_^) Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Needless to say, I'm a bit tired myself...^_^...hehe! And for once in my life, no cliffhanger!! Hope you enjoy not having to suffer one, 'cause it won't last long!  
  
Well let's see here, will Tasuki continue to be so calm concerning Tansho and Shingen, or will he eventually lose his cool and roast the old asshole? And will his and Tansho's steamy affair continue for much longer...or is it destined to come to an end sooner or later?! Come back soon to find out!  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Shadowkeyu: You know, I never really noticed that aspect about Tasuki's warrior strength and how it kinda came in handy when he and Tansho met up at the latrines. ^_^ you're very perceptive, my dear. ^_^  
  
MeKI: So how did your friends like my fic, huh? I'm still so flattered by how far you guys went in order to read it. ^_^  
  
White Cloud: Hee hee, I don't blame you for being hesitant to read this. I's certainly lift an eyebrow before clicking on a story about a prostitute. But if Tasuki was in it, I'd pretty much read anything. ^_^ Still, I'm glad you went against your better judgment and decided to read my little fic! ^_^  
  
Penquine: Yeah, I'm so sorry my updates are taking a while. I'm so looking forward to posting the "new" chapters that haven't been up on FF yet, and curious of what my "old" readers will think of them. ^_^ They're coming soon, I promise!!!!  
  
Missy: Hey!!! Long time to see.or talk.or type.whatever.^_^ E-mail me OK and we'll catch up!!!  
  
Ravi Acushlao: I'll tell you how I came up with my idea for "Tansho" if you tell me how you came up with your pen name!! ^_^ Just kidding.I'll tell you. I actually took the idea from several different places. Most of the detailed storyline itself is from my own disturbed mind ^_^, but I took ideas and elements for the overall plot from several places. The most prominent inspiration was most definitely the movie "Moulin Rouge". There are several similarities between my storyline and the movie's, but also many differences too (I wouldn't' totally rip off such a great movie!!). I also took a few ideas from the novel "Picturemaker". Also, some of the nit- picky details throughout the storyline are the products of my interest in anything about History.  
  
Thanks to all my other reviewers!!! I love all of you!!! 


	16. Come With Me

Disclaimer: I don't own shit...oh, I take that back...I do own Tansho...  
  
A/N: I'm just going to tell you now that the number of days between Tasuki's fight with Tamahome and the summoning of Suzaku are a little different than I have written in this fic (you might not even notice though). I'll probably have to do another of these Author's Notes in later chapters as well to remind you of the subtle differences between the anime's actual storyline and "Tansho" 's  
  
Chapter 16 Come With Me  
  
I am still elated by our tumultuous lovemaking, but both my body and mind are still well aware of the bruise on my face. I think of what I will do. What is there to do? Do I return to working as a prostitute as I did before I began my affair with Tasuki, or do I continue to try to steer away from my clients? Do I dare to defy Shingen further? My mind is soon exhausted by my thoughts. I want to sleep for the simple reason of escaping myself.  
  
Tasuki shifts and pulls a sheet up over our naked bodies, settling in beside me again. But he doesn't stay silent as I had expected him to.  
  
"Tansho," he suddenly whispers to me, causing me to startle slightly, "I was telling you the truth, when I said I would take care of you. You believe me don't you?"  
  
"Of course I believe you," I answer, turning my face to the side to look at him, "I know you'd never lie to me." I scowl to myself inside my mind. If he only knew the lies I had told him.  
  
"And do you love me?" he asks, catching me off guard yet again. I know him to be somewhat blunt, yet still I am surprised by his unexpected question.  
  
"Yes," I answer truthfully, "Yes, I do."  
  
"Then would you do something if I asked you to? Something you can only do if you love me?"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He sits up unexpectantly beside me and props his elbow on his bent knee, assuming the alluring position that he has a habit of doing. I roll over onto my side to face him, instantly captivated by his gorgeous body yet again. I fold my hands under my cheek as a pillow and simply allow myself to gaze at him in admiration. I wonder what it is he wishes to ask me.  
  
"Well, you know that I am a warrior of Suzaku, right?" he begins. I nod, immediately interested in what he has to say. "Well, yesterday, I told you that I am living in the palace until we summon Suzaku, then I'll be going home..." He pauses to nervously scratch his head, then looks around the room as if searching for something. Disturbed by his strange actions, I sit up, pulling the sheet with me to cover my bare breasts. I urge him on with my questioning eyes. "Well, tomorrow...we're performing the ceremony to summon Suzaku," he finally blurts out.  
  
"Tomorrow?" I cry out. My mind reels at the thought of him leaving me to return to Mount Reikaku so soon. "You're leaving?"  
  
"Well, yes, after the ceremony. The priestess will make her wishes, she'll return to her world, Konan will be protected forever, and me and the others will all go home to our old lives...and..." He pauses again to look at me, a solemn expression painted over his bronzed features. "And when I go back to Mount Reikaku...I want you to come with me."  
  
I have to repeat his words in my head again and again until I can process their meaning. And when I understand what he has just asked me, I want to collapse on the bed and vanish into nothingness. My eyes close in overwhelming sadness, and yet my heart is swelling with so much joy that I feel my ribs will crack. He wants me to come with him to his home. The mountain. My soul seems to gasp in terror. Mount Reikaku. My family; the family I was taken from. But then I am strangely relaxed by the realization of my circumstances. No, I can't go with him. Even though I want to desperately, I cannot. And I know it. But what can I tell him? How can my words explain to him without making him think I don't' care for him?  
  
"I know that at first it would be kinda weird for ya', living with a bunch of men...bandits to make it even worse...but I swear they'd never hurt you. If they knew that you were mine, ya' know...they'd treat you like a queen..." He says, and continues to tell me how lovely the mountain is and how he'd get me all the things I had ever wanted. Gowns and jewelry, and how he'd let me decorate his place however I wanted, that he wouldn't mind if I turned everything upside down and covered it all in diamonds and silk. I have to force myself to retain a smile at his enthusiasm. But I cannot listen to him, even though his generosity and eagerness to please me makes my insides cry out in longing and pain.  
  
All these thoughts and desires are so tangled together in my mind that I feel I will never be able to speak again. How can I explain to him my fierce desire to say "yes", but the reason for my inability to say it? How can I tell him why I cannot come with him? He thinks that I can, that I have the power to just walk away with him. He doesn't know the truth about me, because I lied to him when I had the chance to tell him everything. In blunt words.it is my own damn fault for bringing this upon myself.  
  
My mind works desperately for an excuse, a way to say "no". But because I want more than anything to say "yes", I can say nothing. I feel honored and unbelievably lucky that such a man loves me so much as to ask me to return home with him. He is willing to be with me forever, and yet I cannot go. My mind weeps uncontrollably while my eyes drop to the linens of my bed to escape my lover's.  
  
"Tansho?" he replies, leaning toward me, trying to see my eyes beneath my long, ruffled brown bangs.  
  
"Please don't ask me to do that," I say as quietly and emotionlessly as possible. These are the only words that I am able to speak. I cannot explain or lie. I cannot do anything but avoid.  
  
"What?" he asks, his voice sounding almost breathless.  
  
"Please don't ask me to come with you, Tasuki," I repeat a little more assertively.  
  
"But, why? I mean...why not?" he stutters, "What do you mean, Tansho?"  
  
"I cannot explain to you just yet," I say, "Maybe I'll be able to before you leave..." I pause and lower my head even more when I feel his eyes bearing down on me. "But maybe I won't." I brush my hair from my face, still trying to avoid his eager stare. " Can you give me time?" I ask, finally lifting my head to peek into his eyes. I look at him as I would look at a god-like I don't deserve to even take a single glance at him "Just.some time?" I repeat. This is the only way I can avoid it. Stall. Stall and maybe he'll decide to stay in the capital instead of returning to Mount Reikaku. But is it possible to carry on an affair forever?  
  
"Time," he says as if pronouncing a foreign word. "Time...of course, I guess. You need time."  
  
I think to myself, Let him believe what he wants to believe.  
  
He probably thinks that I have connections here, maybe with the other women. Connections that I am reluctant to break just so I can run off with a man I met a week ago.  
  
Let him think what he will, I tell myself, It will keep him safe.  
  
"Come here," I say, motioning to him with outstretched arms. He leans toward me and lets me hold him and pull him down to the bed. I wrap my arms around him, thinking I can protect him from the truth, from what he doesn't want to hear. He rests his face in the hollow of my neck and I hear him breathe in my scent greedily as if he'll never be able to again. He drapes his arm protectively around my waist and slips the other one under my back. And I think that perhaps I can hold onto him just a little longer. Just a little longer before he has to leave me forever.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******************  
  
I open my eyes and blink several times to try to get the blurriness of my injured eye to go away, and I sigh when at last I can see clearly again. I reach a hand up to touch my cheek and wince at the contact, slowly returning my hand to my side. The bruise probably ripened overnight, unfortunately for me.  
  
I turn over sleepily to tell Tasuki good morning, but I meet only empty linens. Startled, I sit up and look around. His clothes are not scattered on the floor with my gown and sash. His scent does not linger in the air. There is no trace of him. He is gone. I gasp and look around again, hoping that I might have missed him, but my room is still empty. He is gone. He has left me.  
  
At first I think that it was my reaction to his invitation to go with him back to the mountain that made him leave me in the middle of the night. But I reprimand myself quickly. He promised me. He promised me that he would take care of me. And today he and the other warriors and the priestess are summoning the god Suzaku. Perhaps that is why he left so early, to go to the ceremony. I pray that it is.  
  
Suddenly a knock on my door awakens me from my thoughts, and I quickly get out of my bed and hastily wrap my rumpled gown around me. I run my fingers roughly through my hair to try to untangle it a little as I shuffle to the door in my bare feet.  
  
I open the door to see Koi's pale, smooth face looking at me intently. She gasps loudly at the sight of my face and recoils, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "Oh, Tansho..." she moans sadly, and I think she will begin to cry.  
  
"Come in," I say quickly, not wanting any on looking harlots to see her reaction to my obviously blemished face. She obeys and shuffles into my room in haste to sit on my bed. The bed where the man she had once lusted for as much as I did had laid only the night before--with me.  
  
"Does it hurt much?" she asks quietly as if loud words would cause me more pain.  
  
"Strangely, no," I answer, daring to take a look at myself in the mirror, "It's already looking better, actually. I had expected it to worsen." The once huge bruise that was spread nearly all over one side of my face is now just a barely visible black eye and a dark hued bruise on the round of my cheek. How strange. I had never had such a bruise begin to heal so quickly. I believe that if I press enough powder on, I could conceal most of it.  
  
"I heard it all," Koi replies, "I thought I heard him hit you, but I was hoping that he didn't." She looks down into her lap and twirls her fingers. "Maybe its time you end it with that guy," she finally says, her voice wavering. She looks up at me and our eyes meet. "It's because of him, isn't it...that you've slowed your working down so much? You're trying to keep him from getting jealous. I should know-- I've tried one too many times."  
  
I take a cloth and wet it in the basin of water I poured last night. I dab it on the corner of my black eye, then press it to my face to freshen my splotchy skin. My eyes wander back to the table on which the basin sits. There, beside it, is a small piece of paper folded in half. I grab it and unfold it to see a letter addressed to me from Tasuki. I exhale loudly as I read it, overwhelmed that he did, as I was hoping, have to leave early for the ceremony. It also says that he will visit me again as soon as he can. I return the letter to its place beside the basin, praying that Koi did not see it or my reaction to the words written on it.  
  
"You've had fun with him, that's all that counts. And there'll be others, you know," Koi continues.  
  
"I don't think so, Koi," I quickly answer before she can continue. "I think that he's my only chance." I am surprised at my own words, but pleased with them as well.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" she asks, scowling at me. "You're young. Maybe you won't be here forever like you think. You might get out one day, get married, have babies...be a normal woman. How can you think that this guy is the only one who can give you that?"  
  
"Because I love him and I know that I can never love anyone else, that's how," I say with startling firmness, but I still hear her snort in disgust. She thinks I am a fool. She thinks that love is for fools, and yet she has never experienced it. How dare she judge me? How dare she judge me concerning something she has never had? All that her life has ever known is what this brothel offered her. She hasn't been here much longer than I have and isn't much older. She still has a chance, just like I do.  
  
I put down the cloth and move away from my vanity table to her. I kneel in front of her and grasp her knees tightly.  
  
"It's not too late, Koi," I say, "You can leave. Unlike me, you can just go, just walk away. I know that you'll be scared for a while, on the streets, with nothing. I would too. But you can sew the most beautiful gowns and shawls. You could get a job as a seamstress and work your way up until you have your own shop. You could end up making gowns for the richest women in the city. You could be so wealthy." I stop momentarily to try to read her face. It is blank, obviously soaking up every word I say. "And--and you could get married, and have children, and be so happy that you don't know why in the world you ever stayed here for so long." I pause and stare hard at her again. "You could be so happy, Koi."  
  
Her eyes are wide and full, shimmering like sapphires above me. Her mouth is slightly open, in awe of what I just said. Her small pink lips tremble and quiver like rose petals. And her eyes water uncontrollably. Her hands find mine and squeeze them desperately. At first, I thought her reaction would be disgust, or annoyance that I had turned her own words back upon her. But her eyes tell me that I got to her soul.  
  
"I could?" she whispers quietly to me, her voice filled to the brim with hope.  
  
I nod and stand up, pulling her up with me. "You could. You and Asako, and Misa, and Okichi. You all could. You all could just walk away from the Black Dove and never look back. You all have talents. Asako can cook, Misa can sew like you, and Okichi can make jewelry and weave baskets. You all can do so much more than you know."  
  
They don't know it, but their years spent in this place have strengthened them beyond their comprehension.  
  
Asako and her hard eyes, the black holes in her smile, her silver hair. She is the oldest, the hardest, the saddest. But she is also the wisest, and she is also strong, poised, and iron-willed--a true woman. Lovely little Okichi and her shiny, pearl-colored hair, soft words, and bright laugh. Her wisdom reaches so far beyond her young years. Misa and her vanity, her pride, her self-respect. She never lowers herself, never allows herself to be overwhelmed or over-run. And my darling Koi, my dearest friend. Her wit. Her beauty. Her honesty. Everything about her is perfect in my eyes. All of them. The whores of the Black Dove. All of them, callused and scarred by their life--but not beaten. Every time I see them, I see strength. They have survived the hardest life known to man, after all. But they deserve so much more than this life has given them, and yet they do not realize it.  
  
"But what about you? Shingen would never let you leave, Tansho," Koi says fearfully.  
  
"I know," I answer, "But I think I'll be alright."  
  
I know that somehow I can continue to survive, knowing that I have planted this seed in Koi's mind. Maybe, if I am lucky, she will take my advice and leave this goddamned place behind her. Maybe she can save herself, and maybe she will tell the others what I have told her. And maybe they will all save themselves from this place and live on, happy and content forever in lives that they deserve.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: So, as you can see, as each chapter goes by, I reveal more and more about Tansho's mysterious reason for being so connected to Shingen and the Black Dove. Exactly why can she never leave? She obviously wants to, but why does she think that she is forever doomed to spend the rest of her days in the brothel that she now obviously detests? It will finally be revealed very, very, very soon...I promise!!! And what will happen to Koi and the other women? Will they finally realize that the life of prostitution is not the one for them after all?! 


	17. She's Nothing

Disclaimer: I own Tansho and all my other OC's, but not FY.  
  
A/N: In the Fushigi Yuugi TV series, the time period between Tamahome's returning from Kouto and the failed summoning of Suzaku (followed by the mission to Hokkan) is actually only a little less than a week. But I have turned it into a little over a week to accommodate my storyline. Just a warning that I changed it a wee bit! ^_^  
  
Warning: A shit-load of cussing and an even bigger shit-load of violence. Beware! Beware, I say!!! Beware!!!  
  
Chapter 17 She's Nothing  
  
I float through the days like dust on the wind. Koi says that I should avoid the tavern for a while until my eye and cheek heal a little; but, like I thought, I am able to cover most of the damage with enough layers of powder. A light blue hue still blemishes my face, and I still have an obvious black eye, but I look far better than I did the night before.  
  
I am desperate to show Shingen that I am working just as hard as I did a week ago, but I find myself to be like a child among the men of the tavern. I feel like I am twelve again, lost in a sea of burly, sweat- stained bodies that grope me and pinch me and hoot at me ruthlessly. I find that I am inarticulate around them, when I was once able to retort witty comments and comebacks that made their mouths howl with laughter and their lower halves swell with excitement. Now, all I can do is mumble my price and walk silently up the stairs in front of them, feeling their eyes roaming over me. And while they take what they want from me, I lie still and quiet, waiting for them to finish so that I can return to the tavern and bring another to the rooms. Before, I would have enjoyed my time with the more handsome farmers or merchants, pleasing them as I have learned to please men. But now they all look the same to me. I don't even try to discern the disgusting old men from the strapping young stable boys. I try not to listen to them as they grunt their revolting pleasure in my ear. I ignore the smothering heat of their bodies on top of me after they collapse from exhaustion. I seal my mind away and think of anything else that I can conjure up. And when they finish with me, I numbly take my coins and stuff them between my breasts, where they will remain until Shingen takes half of them at the end of the night.  
  
I hope he will not strike me again, that instead he will be pleased that I have returned to making the amount of money I was making a week ago-- nearly thirty gold coins a night. And he will pat my head like I am a child, the child I was when he took me, instead of slapping me across the face. And I will do the same thing the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that, until I am as broken and gray as Asako, who should still be in her prime.  
  
Tasuki does not come back tonight, or the next night, or the night after that. And I find myself panicking inside. I think he and the others have succeeded in summoning the god, and he has gone home. He has lied to me and left me. But then I slap myself mentally, telling myself that he would never lie to me. He never has. I know there must be some reason why he hasn't come back, and I wait patiently for him.  
  
On the fourth night, I feel I will go mad. He is not here tonight either. I do not know how much longer I can simply wait. I pray he will come tonight. I pray again and again.  
  
I lose track of how many men I lead to the rooms. And when I realize that I have no idea of how many I have lain with, I find I don't care. I feel like I am attached to nothing, just air and wind. I feel like I am swimming in the middle of the ocean, unsure of which way to tread, in which direction is the nearest land. And I find that I wish I were in the ocean, away from anything that can save me, so that I can just sink and fall until darkness is all around me, crushing me, taking me away. And what pains me is know that Tasuki wants to do that-- he wants to take me away. He wants to love me, and take care of me. And I want to love him, be with him, have a home and children with him. I want what I can't have, just like everybody else in this goddamned world.  
  
Soon, the night is growing darker and darker and the men begin to file out, hanging onto each other as they stumble and sway from their drunkenness. Quite a few are left though, so drunk they can't even lift their bodies to stand. I walk over to a small group of them and lay a hand on the shoulder of one of the younger ones, a regular who comes just about every night.  
  
"Isamu," I say, "We're about to close, darling. Can you get up?"  
  
He ignores me and turns to his friend, who regards me for a moment, but then returns his attention to the almost-empty sake bottle on the table.  
  
"Isamu," I repeat, "You have to leave, we're closing."  
  
Suddenly, he grabs me by the wrist and I try to wiggle away out of reflex, but he yanks me toward him, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist. "You little bitch!" he slurs in my face, "You go off with every other goddamn guy in here...and don't pay a stitch of attention to me until you're closing. And even now, you just wanna get rid of me!"  
  
"Isamu," I say calmly, "You're hurting me. Let me go."  
  
"No!" he yells, "You've fucked all your other customers, and it's my turn!!! A month ago, I was always first on your list! You even told me that I was your favorite, you little whore!"  
  
"We're closing," I say, still trying to remain calm, "I can't take you upstairs tonight, but come back tomorrow and."  
  
"I don't want to!" he howls at me before I can finish speaking, "I want it now, goddamn it!"  
  
Suddenly, the hand he had wrapped around my waist is now behind my head, clutching a handful of my hair. I feel it rip from my scalp and try to reach my hands around to pry his fingers away, but he throws my head down onto the table he's sitting at. My forehead smashes into the edge of the wooden table with such force I immediately fall on my back at Isamu's feet. Blood seeps into my eye, making it sting unbearably. I try to reach my hand up to wipe it away, but I am hauled to my feet again my Isamu, his hand still wound tightly into my hair. He backhands me across the face and I fly to the ground again, this time sprawling on my stomach and hitting my chin on the hard floor. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and I press my fingers to my lips and draw them away to see them covered in red.  
  
"Tansho!" I hear Okichi screech. I look up to see her pearly-white hair flail around her head as she rushes toward me. But she doesn't reach me. Isasmu has grabbed me from behind, this time by both of my arms. He pulls me up until my back is pressed into his chest, then swings me around and pushes me face-first to the wooden table so that I am bent over it. I feel the weight of his hand on the back of my head as he presses my face down harder and harder. I struggle, kicking at him and flailing my arms, finally landing my heel between his legs. He releases me and I turn to face him, just in time to be backhanded by him again and thrown to the floor.  
  
"Stop it!!!" I hear Okichi's terrified howls as Isamu rears his foot back and plunges it into my stomach, making me gag and gasp for air.  
  
"You whore!" I hear him spit at me, "You do as you're goddamned told, you hear me?!!"  
  
I have to open my mouth to breath, for blood is spilling from my nose so forcefully that it's running over my lips. When I open my mouth to take a breath, I have to spit out a mouthful of blood before I can inhale. My stomach feels as if it is being attacked by a million cramps, and I clutch it and curl into a ball, pressing my cheek the ground.  
  
"You fucking bitch, get the hell up the stairs!" I hear Isamu scream at me. I see him come for me again and I wonder if he will kick me in my head and maybe render me unconscious so that I don't have to feel whatever else he does to me. I wonder where Shingen is as one of his best whores is being beaten to death in his tavern. I wonder where Tasuki is. He hasn't come yet tonight to see me. I wonder if the ceremony to summon the god was successful. I wonder if he has already gone home to Mount Reikaku and left me here, on the tavern floor to be killed.  
  
"Tasuki," I moan as I feel Isamu's hand close around my throat. He brings his other hand to my neck as well and begins to squeeze, calling me by what I am, again and again. And all I hear is Okichi screaming and Koi yelling at Asako and Misa to go find Shingen...and the word "whore" bellowing over and over in my ears. But my vision is blurring from the pressure around my throat, and all I can see is blackness. But I can still hear things faintly, as if they were far away. I hear something slamming against the wall and something heavy falling on the floor, echoing again and again inside my head since my ear is so close to the tiled floor. And then I hear a voice that makes me suck in a breath and kick with all my might at the man above me. But I am too weak and I fall limp before my feet even rise off the ground.  
  
"Get your fucking hands off of her!!!" Tasuki's unmistakable voice thunders through the tavern, reverberating across the walls and into my ears. I open my mouth to call for him, but I can't breathe. Only now do I realize that I am being strangled.  
  
"Get the hell away from her! Get your goddamned hands off of her!!" I hear him scream again. It is the first time I have seen him in four days, and I am in awe of him as if I had never before laid eyes on him. I feel Isamu's grip on my neck loosen and I immediately turn my head to the entrance of the tavern. And he's there. He's standing there, the double doors thrown open wide. Tables and chairs that once rested where Tasuki is standing are now heaped up upon themselves in great piles on either side of him. His magnificence is almost blinding as my blurred vision clears.  
  
"Now!!!" I hear his voice grow louder and louder, and I feel Isamu's hands grow weaker and weaker. He lets me go and I try to move away, but I can only lie there and watch as he stands to face Tasuki.  
  
"And just who the fuck are you?" he says, slurring his words horribly.  
  
"It doesn't matter," Tasuki answers, "Just leave."  
  
"No!" comes Isamu's reply, "I've paid for her before, and I'm gonna do it again, damn it!!"  
  
"No you're not. Leave now and I won't touch you."  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
Suddenly, Isamu is rushing toward Tasuki, and I find the strength to scramble backwards to get away from the fight I know is inevitable. I feel someone's arms encircle me from behind and turn painfully to see Okichi's hair fluttering around me. She hooks her arms under mine and hauls me to my feet, helping me move to the side of the tavern where all of the other whores have gathered. The many remaining customers just sit and watch, waiting with their money pouches out to make bets as soon as the two men in the center of the tavern begin to fight.  
  
Isamu suddenly swings at Tasuki, but he easily ducks the drunken man's fist and delivers one to his gut, causing Isamu to grunt. I know that Tasuki could easily defeat Isamu with one swing, but I feel him holding himself back. He knows his opponent is drunk and not thinking straight. But Isamu is tenacious and recovers faster than I thought he would. He takes another swing, but his time Tasuki grabs his balled fist, holding it in mid-air, and moves beside Isamu, twisting his arm as he goes. Isamu struggles and brings his other fist around trying to hit Tasuki when he's distracted, but he sees and delivers a swift kick to the back of Isamu's head.  
  
He falls at Tasuki's feet and lies still for a moment, gaining his bearings before staggering to his feet yet again. Tasuki's eyes are cold and unmoved. His rage is nowhere near where it could be if he were not holding his strength back. But I am thankful that he merely wants to disarm Isamu, not kill him. He could kill him if he wanted, very easily, with his iron fan.  
  
I watch on as Isamu studies his opponent, finally realizing that Tasuki is very skilled and experienced. I see his eyes flicker, and I know he wants to just give it up. But his pride is fueled by his drunkenness, and I know this fight will not end until he is lying still on the floor.  
  
He lunges, screaming wildly, at Tasuki. But, almost amusingly, Tasuki averts his footing out of Isamu's way and gives him another quick hit on the back of his neck, and the drunken man ends up sprawled on the tavern floor yet again.  
  
"You're drunk," Tasuki says nonchalantly, "You can't fight. Leave."  
  
I realize that my respect for Tasuki has grown immensely. He fights fairly and is beyond merciful. And I am ashamed of Isamu, for his foolishness and arrogance. His pride will kill him.  
  
I clutch Okichi's sleeve, wondering if Isamu will accept Tasuki's clemency, or keep on attacking him until Tasuki is forced to injure him further only to make him give up what he obviously has no chance of winning.  
  
Isamu stares over his shoulder at the red-haired man standing unscathed behind him. "Fuck you," he says finally, gathering himself together and walking past Tasuki proudly. "You can have the little bitch!" He turns to face me, his drunken eyes seeming to swim in his head. He scowls, then smirks as he turns back to face Tasuki. "She's nothing. Heh!- -nothing but a dirty little whore, that is."  
  
My heart sinks deep into my bowels as Isamu utters those words. I scramble away from Okichi's hold as she tries desperately to hold onto me. Although I know it appears as if I am about to try to uphold what little dignity I have-my intentions are far from being for my own sake.  
  
"Tansho, stop!" Okichi screams at me. But I ignore her desperate cries and bolt at Tasuki's exposed back. I grab the handle of his fan in my trembling fingers just as he is reaching for it. I rip it from its sheath and clutch it tightly to my breasts as he turns to look at me in shock.  
  
I knew he would. Goddamn him. I knew the moment Isamu spoke those words that he would reach for his fan, his anger finally peeking and erupting at the sound of Isamu insulting my honor. But I don't give a shit about my honor. It was diminished long ago before I even became a woman to honor. Tasuki stares at me with an expression of unbelief on his face- almost bordering on betrayal.  
  
"Tansho," he says, his voice painfully hard, "What are doing? Give it to me!" I shake my head like a child refusing to return what I have stolen. I can't let him have it. He could care less about mercy now. I see it in his eyes. They want to kill, and so do his hands. And if he holds this fan, he won't think twice before doing what he demonstrated for me in front of the latrines. I know he'll kill Isamu for what he said, and I can't let him.  
  
"You can't Tasuki," I say, "You can't kill him. He's drunk! He can't even fight you!"  
  
"I don't give a fuck!" he howls, startling me. I stare at him, my bloody lips trembling from his harshness. "Give it to me now, Tansho!" He yells, the tone of his voice still crazed. He thrusts his open hand out at me, demanding that I return his weapon.  
  
I am not afraid of him, but I am afraid of his anger. Even so... I will not back away from him. "No, Tasuki," I repeat, "I'm not giving it to you."  
  
He rushes toward me, but I hold my ground when I know he thinks I will falter. His face is in front of mine, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. His eyes are wild pools of anger, desperation, rage, and infinite hate. I stare into them, facing all of him. The look of those deranged eyes burns the very insides of my soul.  
  
He grabs my wrist with one hand and the folded part of his fan with the other. He pulls hard but carefully, trying to dislodge the fan from me without hurting my hands. But I pull back furiously and connect my elbow with his shoulder, pushing him back with more force than I intended. He stumbles slightly, dazed at my strength, but only comes at me again after regaining his composure. But this time, he stops short at the sound of my voice rising above the tense air.  
  
"So you want it that bad, do you? Are you willing to kill me for it?" I ask coldly, narrowing my dark eyes at him, "I never thought you to turn out a coward."  
  
I stare hard at him with my cold eyes, with my demolished, bloody face. He finally notices the cuts and the blood still seeping from my nose, and his rigid body staggers noticeably. Upon studying my face further with his wide, confused eyes, he slowly brings a shaking hand up to try to touch me. His finger grazes my lip slightly and I jerk my head violently out of his reach, backing farther away from him.  
  
The bastard! How fucking dare he?! How dare he think he can touch me?! My mind is enraged, whirling and cursing at him. How dare he?! The son of a bitch!  
  
"Tansho," Koi's soft voice suddenly interrupts my furious thoughts. I feel my lungs suck in air, desperate to calm my frenzied mind and enraged emotions. "You'd better get him out of here," she whispers just loud enough for Tasuki and I to hear. "Shingen's coming."  
  
I hear what she said, but I never take my eyes off Tasuki. "Go outside and wait on the veranda," I tell him, my voice blank, showing nothing of the hurt and fury mixed inside of me, "I'll be there in a minute." He doesn't move and I close my eyes is surrender, finally releasing my grasp on his weapon and holding his fan out to him. "Just go," I beg, "Please!"  
  
He takes the fan, sheathes it violently onto his back, and turns away from me without a word. He walks past a stunned Isamu, not even regarding him. I look at Isamu and coldly tell him to leave through the back door unless he wants me to tell Shingen what he did to me. He stares for a moment, then runs like a madman to escape. I don't care. I don't care about anything. I feel defeated. I feel torn apart and scattered. At this moment, I feel more degraded and used than all of my years of whoredom. I fall to my knees and kneel there on the filthy floor of the tavern until Koi and Okichi come to my sides and gently lift me.  
  
"Tell him to leave, Tansho," Koi whispers into my hair as she holds me against her gently, "He can't ever come back here. Neither him nor Isamu...so you'll never have to see..." I don't let her finish. I break away from them and stand on my own, facing them as if facing an army.  
  
"I don't give a shit about Isamu, Koi!" I spit at her, "Goddamn it all!! If Tasuki hadn't come when he did, I'd be a bloody corpse on the fucking floor!!! And you think that I can just tell him to leave?!" I feel so betrayed by them. And yet I know in the corners of my heart that they speak the truth. I know that they speak only to help me. I know that he can never come here again. Shingen will find out sooner or later who he is, and then--I don't know what will happen. I cradle my bleeding face in my trembling palms, furious and overcome with hatred and sorrow. I feel Okichi try to take hold of me again to comfort me, but I twist out of her gentle hands and turn towards the front door of the tavern.  
  
I stumble towards the veranda, hoping that he did what I asked and is waiting for me. What will I say? What can I say that will explain it all? What can I do to make it all better again? If only it were as simple as mother kissing her child's scraped knee? What will he do? Yell at me, tell me that it was a mistake to ever ask me to come with him? Tell me that it was a mistake that he ever spoke to me...slept with me? What will we do?  
  
And what will I do?  
A/N: Yes, what will they do? Will it all end in the next chapter? Or will Tasuki and Tansho's short-lived love continue despite the unfortunate circumstances? Suspenseful, isn't it? You want to murder me don't you? ^_^  
  
And just to let you in on something that might confuse the hell out of you later..This chapter on up to the end of chapter 25 takes place in only * one night *..if you can even try to fathom that. I know, I know, it seems absolutely insane that I wrote nine chapters encompassed into only one night. But, hey, you must remember that this is the night before Tasuki leaves for Hokkan with the rest of the Suzaku warriors and Miaka. So, obviously, there is going to be quite a lot of drama going on. ^_^ 


	18. Just Go

Disclaimer: I don't own Tasuki or FY...so don't sue me. But I do own Tansho. So if you try to steal her, I sure as hell will sue you!!! ^_^ Have a nice day!  
  
In answer to your question, Chels=dawg (cute name ^_^), Tansho was mad at Tasuki because of how he acted towards Isamu when she had thought him to be calm and gentle. He wanted to kill the guy (for right reason, but not in Tansho's eyes), and then he had the nerve to try to touch her. I know it seems overly emotional, but that's the way I designed her personality (a bit of a neurotic ^_^)  
  
Chapter 18 Just Go  
  
I step out onto the veranda and stand still for a moment, letting myself get used to the chill in the air. I see him out of the corner of my bruised eye, pacing ferociously back and forth at the end of the veranda. The air around him seems to be heavy, weighing down on him, irritating him. I watch as he bares his teeth, allowing his tiny fangs to gleam maliciously in the lamp light of the veranda. He runs his fingers through his flame-like hair anxiously. I am over-run with relief that he is still here and didn't allow his anger to dictate his mind after all.  
  
Carefully, I approach him as if I were approaching a wounded tiger. His head jerks up and his green eyes lock on mine, causing me to instantly halt in my tracks at their utter wildness. I am still not afraid of him, but my mind tells me to be very cautious. I stand still a few feet in front of him and simply watch him for a moment, taking notice of the tense muscles in his neck. His eyes glance at me, then at the floor, then back at me. He seems ashamed. And I know why.  
  
"Thank you," I finally say, trying to make my voice tranquil to calm him, "Thank you for saving me." I pause and gingerly bring a finger up to the corner of my mouth when I taste blood. I then press my knuckles to my nose and bring my hand away with smudges of red all over them. "Fuck..." I whisper, remembering how badly I'm bleeding. I'm also angry with myself for not attempting to clean myself up before attempting to talk to Tasuki. I turn my face away, not wanting him to see.  
  
I take my long sleeve in my hand and swiftly rip a section off, not caring that I've completely ruined it. I roll the silk up and press it to the corner of my mouth, embarrassed and pissed off beyond belief that I now have more bruises and cuts to deal with, along with the black eye Shingen gave me the night before.  
  
Suddenly, I hear Tasuki walking towards me, his heavy black boots echoing across the wooden veranda. Startled, I turn to face him again and back up a little, thinking he will begin a confrontation with me. He stops right in front of me and gently takes the piece of cloth from my hand, crumpling it in his own.  
  
"Let me help you...you can't really see what you're doing," he says emotionlessly, gently pressing the cool silk to my mouth.  
  
"Thank you," I say again. I stand very still for a few moments, letting him clean my face wounds. His fingertips press gently on my cheek to keep my face still for him, and I close my eyes as he caresses me slightly and probably unintentionally. When he is finished with the small cut on my mouth, he tilts my chin with his fingers and presses the cloth to my nose, letting the silk seep up the blood on its own. I keep my hands by my side; I trust him with everything in me. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come," I say, being careful not to open my mouth too wide for fear of disrupting his gentle hands.  
  
"Where was your pimp?" He asks coldly, averting his eyes from mine and concentrating on my nosebleed.  
  
"I was wondering that myself.when Isamu had me on the ground," I answer, smiling a little. He doesn't return my smile, and I drop my eyes in humiliation. Why am I being so foolish? He just saved me from being beaten to death, and I'm making light of the situation.  
  
"I suppose you'll be leaving soon?" I ask quietly, "For Mount Reikaku?"  
  
"I'll be leaving soon.yes," he replies, his voice still flat, "But not for home."  
  
I lift my eyes to his, then gasp and jerk in pain as he touches the cut on my brow caused by my head hitting the wooden tavern table. He mumbles an apology, then gently begins to dap the area around the tender cut, being careful not to touch it directly.  
  
"Where are you going?" I ask, "Why will you not be going home?"  
  
He doesn't answer. He won't look at my eyes, only my wounds. Exasperated by his actions, I take his wrist and draw away from him, finally looking at him directly. His eyes meet mine, but he quickly glances to the ground, averting them yet again.  
  
"Tasuki!" I cry, "Why won't you look at me?" I step closer, still holding his wrist, trying to look up at him. He pays me no attention. I see him clutch the piece of soiled silk in his fist. "What happened, Tasuki?" I ask, almost begging, "Tell me!" He takes hold of my fingers around his wrist with his other hand and pries them away. I let my hands fall to my sides, but my gaze remains on his downcast eyes, pleading with him to look at me. "What happened?"  
  
He inhales deeply and scratches the back of his fiery head, finally lifting his eyes and staring into mine. I feel my breath rush from my lungs at the sight of his eyes. Sadness. So much of it. "We failed, Tansho," he says simply, "We failed to summon Suzaku."  
  
I am shocked and confused at his confession. I shake my head. "Failed? But how?" I ask, knitting my brows together with worry.  
  
"We were fooled by one of the warriors of Seiryu," he tells me, looking off into the lights of the capital and the blackness beyond. "We thought he was one of us.but he was a spy sent to sabotage the ceremony to summon Suzaku. And he succeeded. We failed.and he died." His eyes are distant, looking for something in the black sky beyond the city. He blinks several times as if to rid himself of something in his view and glances at me again, a determined look set on his perfect features.  
  
"Seiryu? A rival god?" I ask, even though I already know of the god in the form of a dragon. He nods simply, silently. "So.it's over?" I whisper. I can't believe that is true. He always seemed so adamant on his quest, so unbelievably determined. He even left his home and those who depended on him, those who looked up to him, to come here and summon the beast god to help Konan. And now it is over?  
  
"No," he answers, "No, it's far from over." He pauses and scratches the back of his head again. "Like I said, I have to leave.but not to go home. We have to go to Hokkan, to get this thing.hell if I know what the damn thing's called...and supposedly be able to summon Suzaku after that," he explains, obviously not really understanding it all himself. "That's why I haven't been to see you in so long. We've been preparing for the journey to Hokkan."  
  
"Hokkan?" I reply curiously, "Isn't that all the way up north? You have to go that far?" He nods, but seems undeterred, unafraid. I even think I catch a hint of excitement in his eyes. My heart sighs long and hard. That's why he hasn't been to the tavern for so long. He and the others have been preparing for the trip north. I shake my head in defeat. I cannot deny the admiration I have for him. He is obviously tenacious, and he proved his loyalty to me long ago. Of course he would be loyal to his god and his priestess as well and go where he is needed. I am ashamed at myself for even thinking he would abandon everything now--and abandon me. I smile at him, and for the first time since I walked onto the veranda, he smiles back at me.  
  
"But I'll come back," he says quietly, under his breath. He walks closer to me and clutches the piece of cloth in his hand again.  
  
"How long?" I ask, holding still yet again as he restarts his gentle tending, beginning again with the cut on my forehead.  
  
"I don't know," he answers, "A month, three months, half a year.I really have no idea."  
  
"But you'll come back, right?" I say, my heart beat quickening at the soft feel of his fingers running across my forehead and below my chin.  
  
"Of course," he whispers. He has lowered his face dangerously close to mine without my noticing. But when I feel his lips on my brow, I notice and begin to finally relax. "Of course," he repeats, breathing against me. "And we can leave as soon as I do."  
  
My heart stops and drips like tears into my body cavity. My eyes close sadly, suddenly becoming painful at the sight of his black coat so close to me. I lower my head away from his gentle hands and take a single step away from him. It is now my turn to keep my eyes from his.  
  
He instantly notices my sudden change of mood, and instantly understands. Unlike me, he is no fool. "Tansho," he whispers, "I said it could be months...isn't that enough time for you? I mean, that's what you wanted, right? Time?"  
  
I am so heartbroken. I am so empty, completely hollowed out. I feel my insides begin to bruise slowly, beginning to match my skin. My eyes wander upwards to his, and I immediately regret the action. His eyes are so hopeful, so innocent; and I offer him nothing but rejection.  
  
"I promised nothing, Tasuki," I reply hastily, my voice raspy.  
  
"But.you said..."  
  
"I was stalling.just buying myself time," I say quickly, not allowing him another word.  
  
"You mean to tell me that you never intended to come with me?" he asks me, his tone unbelieving.  
  
"I want to with all of my heart, with all my soul and body," I answer, slowly beginning to crumble in front of him, "But I just can't...so please...don't ask me again..."  
  
"Tansho!" he cries, his voice suddenly rising, startling me, "What is wrong with you? Why do you think you can't? What is so hard? You just walk away...you just leave!!" He looks at me with disbelief, his mouth open in confusion. "You won't be alone. You'll never be alone...I'll stay with you, Tansho. I know it will be hard for you, but are you truly happy with living here...with fucking strangers every night...with being beaten close to death every night? Listen to me, please...," he cries, snatching my hands in his and squeezing my fingers, "Why don't you believe me?"  
  
"I believe you, Tasuki, I do...I just..." I feel my skin cracking. It will be gone soon, and I will be left exposed to him. All of me, laid out for anyone to see. "I just can't go!!!" I cry out, desperate to make him hear me, to make him understand me.  
  
"Why? Tell me why??!!" I hear him yelling now, shaking me. I feel wetness on my face, leaking from my beaten eyes. My tears mingle with the blood of my cuts, and seeps into my crumbling skin.  
  
"Because I can't!!!" I scream furiously, tearing away from him like a mad woman. When I am free of his hands, I wrap my arms around myself and collapse on the rough wood of the porch, staring at my lap. I weep uncontrollably as my outer shell peels away, layer after layer.  
  
"My life...my life was taken out of my control long ago.so long." I hear myself begin to speak, but I have no idea where the words are being born, where in my mind they are coming from. But I continue to speak softly, in hollow, empty words. "Just because I've finally found someone to love me...and someone...someone to love back, that doesn't mean I can take my life back." I lift my head and stare at him, holding him to me with my delirious eyes, not letting him go until I have told him the truth-- finally. No more lies about me being a foolish little girl following a whore into a brothel. He'll finally know.  
  
He drops to his knees at the sight of me crumpled on mine. He is silent, waiting for my strange, hypnotic, unearthly words to continue. But I can feel them now, emanating form inside of me. They are free now, and I am unable to stop them.  
  
"If I go with you, I can be put to death if I am ever found," I say unsteadily, "That's the punishment for a run away, Tasuki." I blink several times, sweeping away the threatening tears with my eyelashes.  
  
I lift my head and stare at him almost as if I were challenging him. "I was given to Shingen five years ago as payment for a debt," I say bitterly, emotionlessly. "Do you understand Tasuki?!" I cry hoarsely. He stares back at me, his eyes wide, his lips parted. "I am Shingen's slave...he owns me.he owns me.." My words convert back to their deathly whispering, devoid of any strength or emotion.  
  
I stare blindly ahead, my eyes looking at Tasuki, but seeing only blackness. And all at once, my grief, my hatred, my sorrow, my anger, my desperation, my loneliness, and my bitterness are all swept away as the last of my tears fall. I have been released from the bondage of my secret. I am free to do as I see fit. I am astonished at the cleanliness I suddenly feel, and I am invigorated by the sudden rush of power in my veins. I uncurl my arms from my body and stand up slowly in front of Tasuki, who is still on his knees, staring.  
  
"That's why I can't go with you, Tasuki," I reply sadly but firmly, "I'm so very sorry."  
  
He looks up at me, bewildered, like a child unable to ask a question because he doesn't have the ability to express the emotions he doesn't understand. "Why did you never tell me, Tansho?" he whispers into the air, his voice unbearably tortured. "Why did you lie to me?" Even though he has the right to be, I know he is not angry. I walk closer to him and sink to my knees in front of him. His eyes follow my motions in a trance. I gently take his face in my hands, making sure to treat him with the care in which he treated me; and I touch his forehead to mine. I snake my fingers into his fiery hair, cool to the touch from being outside for so long.  
  
"Because I love you," I reply in a gentle whisper. I feel his hands curl around my wrists slowly. He peers at me through the layers of his red bangs, showing his beauty to me in a new way that captivates me. "I didn't want you to try to save me. I wanted to keep you as long as I could before you knew that you could never truly have me." My voice is so laden with sorrow that I feel I will drown before I can speak all of my truth to him. He releases my wrists and touches my face with his fingertips, stroking my moist cheeks. "Please don't be mad at me. It is all so hard to explain..." I pause and take his remaining hand from around my wrist. I turn it to the sky and lovingly kiss his palm, then press it warmly to my face, ignoring the dull pain of my bruises. "Please, just leave now, Tasuki. I have lost far too many things that I've loved over the years of my life...but if you succeed in your journey to Hokkan, summon Suzaku, and go home safely to your bandits...and be happy...then you will never be added to those things that I've lost." I take his face in my hands again and kiss his cheek softly, listening to him sigh against my hair in sadness. "If you remember me...and be happy, then I will be able to do the same for you, my darling."  
  
I lean my head on his shoulder and gently wrap my arms around his shoulders, thinking that I will never again be able to hold him to me. I refuse to weep. The time for weeping has passed. My truth has been revealed, and by the way he sighs into my hair, he understands. His arms move silently to my back and he pulls me to him in a desperate motion. I hear his lungs inhale violently.  
  
"How can you ask me to just be happy remembering you?" he whispers into my hair, "How could I ever be happy with that?" He takes me by the shoulders and pulls away, looking at me with glazed-over eyes. "If you love me, how can you do such a thing?"  
  
"I have no choice," I answer, "I do not belong to myself, Tasuki. I do not have control over my actions, and I cannot and will not leave...even though I have wanted to from the day I came here...I cannot." I am beginning to yell again without noticing. My mind is too full of weeping to be able to control itself any longer, much less my pain-wracked body.  
  
He pulls away from my arms and stands to his feet unsteadily. "You mean to tell me that you want to stay here and die??!! You are willing to do that simply because you are a slave?!"  
  
"I have no goddamned choice!!!" I scream back at him, my body suddenly wracked with spasms. I startle my own self with my outburst. I look up at him, wondering why his demeanor has changed again so suddenly, and why mine has done the same. He is like a volcano or a typhoon, unannounced and destructive, just as am I. "Please...just go!!" I yell at him, hearing my voice crack from the immense pressure upon me, "Just leave!!". I thrust my finger toward the darkness and the glittering lights of the city. "Just go!!" He stares at me for the longest time and I am so angry with him. He has made me love him, and now I am making him leave me. I am so angry with myself. How could I? Oh, gods, how am I able to do such a thing. "Leave...please!!!" I bellow at him when he still refuses to move from where he stands.  
  
"I wish you had told me the truth earlier," he says to me, his voice shaky, "But...I will not force you to come with me, Tansho," he says finally, quietly, calmly, "I cannot force you. If this is your wish...then so be it!!" He lowers his head and sighs deeply, raking his fingers through his beautiful red and orange hair. I suddenly find my strength and get up slowly and stand facing him, the tranquility of my previous demeanor returning.  
  
"Then this is it..." I whisper to him, my rage calming at his own calm voice. My words are more of a statement than a question, and he raises his head again to look at me.  
  
"This is it," he says. His eyes are unbelieving, and they are unable to stay focused on me.  
  
We stand like long-lost friends, meeting again for the first time in years. We do not appear as lovers, whose short-lived affair was more glorious and beautiful than either of us ever knew it could be. We stand solid, confident. We stand in sorrow and doubt. We stand facing each other in reverence, a woman looking at what she perceives as a god, and a man looking at what he perceives as a goddess. Both of us loving but unable to reach the other. I feel like I am a part of a myth. The tale of the bandit and the whore-- a tragic love story destined for nothing but sorrow. But still, my heart is full to the brim of love for this man, and I feel his own love for me seeping from his every pore.  
  
"You know that I'll probably always love you," he says, sorrow and mirth mixing beautifully in his voice. His voice, his thin accent, so rich and textured with his life. A voice that I have come to adore for the way it makes my desire bloom like no other voice I have ever heard--or will ever hear again.  
  
He holds his hand out to me and I do not hesitate to take it. He kisses my hand as if I were a lady and squeezes it gently. I can feel his hurt, his anger, his rage, all still locked inside of him. And I respect him for not being foolish. He could easily kill Shingen in his fiery rage, but he doesn't. He doesn't because he truly does have love for me. And love is far too deep for rage to uproot. "I do love you, Tansho," he whispers to me, so sadly and reverently that I fight tears yet again.  
  
I cannot tell him. I cannot tell him that I love him. I will not. If I tell him, I'll never be able to watch him walk away from me. I sigh, knowing that at least I told him once, before now, before he is leaving me. I stand silent, and let him hold my hand.  
  
He closes his eyes sadly when he realizes that I won't speak to him, and I do the same. The idea that he is about to leave is unbelievable to me, but then my hand is released from his, and I believe the unbelievable.  
  
His face is so mixed with misery, love, and sorrow. I have tried to ease his fear for me, his desire to take me away from the hell he now knows I live in. But I know I have failed miserably in trying to make him unafraid for me, and I stare at him, ashamed that I have dared to turn him away from me. I have dared to turn my back on my own happiness. When I know that he had the power to save me from this place, from my brutal life, I still refuse to let him. For fear of my own life, I refuse to try to live. How goddamned foolish. How goddamned ironic.  
  
We do not say goodbye. And I am glad. We were never meant to say goodbye. And I couldn't utter the words even if I wanted. I watch him turn slowly and walk away from me, and I feel myself hollowing out. I feel the last of my shallow happiness seeping away. When he has disappeared into the lights of the city, I know that my only chance for happiness and love has come and passed me by. I will be alone for the rest of my life. I had it so close to me, and now it is gone; he is gone, having slipped through my fingers like sand. And I am alone again. There is nothing left but blackness.  
  
"Just go..." I whisper into the air, listening to the last remaining piece of my life drift away into the lights of the city, following silently after the man I will forever love.  
The End.  
Bwahahaha!!!! *** GASP*** Bwaahahahahaha!!!! ***SNORT*** Bwaaaaaahhaaa!!!***COUGH***COUGH***GASP*** Just kidding!!! I'm dramatic, but I'm not a dumbass!! I know for a fact that you'd find some way to murder me if I let it end this way...and I do value my life...so believe me, this is definitely NOT the end. But still, I would have loved to have seen your faces. Oh God, I know that ya'll are probably seriously pissed at me for even kidding about this, huh?! But don't worry...because there's much more to come! That's right!!... As a matter of fact, there is quite a lot left (you can thank me in your reviews). ^_^  
  
God, this was the hardest chapter to write!!! I'm serious!!! I stayed up until 3:30 in the damn morning trying to make this supposed break-up scene perfect. Then, a couple of days later, I thought up a few more things to add in and spent the next hour working on it. There was so much I wanted to be said between them...so much I wanted to finally be explained. But I think I did all right. You finally know why Tansho can't leave, although she knows good and well that Tasuki could kick Shingen's ass. She truly feels that she belongs to Shingen, and that is she left, she'd be doing wrong (just in case you still don't understand). Just to let you know now, one of the big things to come is the entire, complete explanation of Tansho's past...flashback...etc...etc...  
  
And thank you so much for your reviews, although a little more feedback on how the story's coming along would really help me out. Please??!! ^_^ 


	19. Once You Love A Man

Disclaimer: Don't own jack shit (except Tansho)..but you already knew that.  
  
A/N: I am soooo horribly sorry that this update took so damn long. I've been in Canada for the past week on my Senior class trip and unable to access the net to do much of anything. So please do forgive me! ^_^ Oh, and once again...so very sorry for my nasty little prank I pulled with the last chapter. But you should know it could never end there! ^_^  
  
Chapter 19 Once You Love A Man  
  
I don't know how I am able to continue standing. I feel so drained; like my soul has been sucked from my body and evaporated. I feel so ashamed--and so sad. I am wracked with sadness beyond my belief.  
  
As if on cue, the remaining customers of the Black Dove begin to file out. They keep their faces turned from me so that I won't see the guilt painted there. These men whom I fuck in exchange for a couple of coins; these men who will watch me be beaten to death in front of them, are just walking past me as if I were an apparition, not really there. They don't laugh and stumble about with each other as they normally do when they exit the tavern. They are silent. And to my great amusement, they seem as sober as a pack of monks.  
  
I pay none of them any attention as they walk by me. I just stand there, looking out into the city. He won't go away. He won't release my mind. Tasuki. That name. That goddamned name will repeat itself in my mind until the day I die. It will haunt me like the ghost he has already become.  
  
Dear gods, I think, Is he really gone? Will I truly never see him again?  
  
I can't cry anymore. I would if I could. But I just cannot. So I don't try. I turn around and walk back into the tavern once all of the men have left.  
  
I keep my head low. For some reason I feel ashamed to look the other women in the eye. I have no clue why. It was me, after all, who nearly died on the floor of the tavern while they looked on, screaming in terror.  
  
Sake is strong on the air, and I suddenly realize that it is coming from me. I run my fingers over my arm and an unwounded section of my face. I press my fingers together and they stick. I then raise them to my nose and sniff carefully. My nose crinkles at the strong smell of the rice wine. I am covered in it.  
  
Probably from rolling around on the floor while getting your ass kicked, I think.  
  
The room is empty, with nothing but tables and chairs being cleaned by Misa and Okichi. Koi is to my right, picking up the tables and chairs that Tasuki flung aside upon his entrance. I move to help her, knowing that what happened tonight is my fault. But my arm is suddenly snatched by an unseen hand and I am roughly drawn backwards out onto the veranda before I can bend to assist Koi in lifting the heavy wooden tables.  
  
The fingers grasping my arm tighten and I am shoved up against the wall by the door to the tavern, Asako's worn face is suddenly staring at me. Her hard eyes look at me coldly, burning themselves into me. I can almost feel her anger rising off of her skin in waves of heat.  
  
"Is he gone?" she asks. Her voice is strangely soft, as if she doesn't want to injure my fragile ears. But her undertone is assertive, just as it always is. She raises her eyebrows in question when I don't answer. At least she is not as angry as I thought.  
  
"Yes," I answer simply.  
  
"For good?"  
  
I think that I know the answer to that. Tasuki and I said that it was over. We said that this was it. Over. Done with. He will go to Hokkan with his priestess and the other warriors on his quest to summon Suzaku. And then he will go home, to Mount Reikaku and his bandits. And I will stay here. Here. The Black Dove. The place that owns me. And he will never come back to me again.  
  
"Yes," I finally reply, "He's gone for good, Asako."  
  
"That's good," she says softly, nodding her dark gray head, "That's very good."  
  
She releases her crushing grip from my arm and backs away from me a little. She sighs and grabs a hunk of her gray hair and pulls it over her shoulder. She works her fingers into it and begins to comb it gently.  
  
"It's good that he's gone, Tansho," she tells me as she continues to pull her fingers through her hair, "You know that don't you? You understand?"  
  
Does she think that I am a fool? Does she truly think that I don't understand the dangers that I faced if Tasuki and I continued our affair? The dangers of me leaving with him? Her eyes tell me that she thinks I am still a child. The trembling child she took under her arm five years ago. The innocent to whom she taught the art of pleasure. The little girl she taught how to shamelessly fuck a man and then do it over and over again without any thought.  
  
All I can do is stare at her in disbelief.  
  
"Who do you think I am, Asako?" I ask. I raise my head so that I am looking her in the eye. "Do you still think me a child? A child you have to teach?"  
  
"You listen to me!" she suddenly shouts, releasing her gray hair from her combing fingers and grabbing my arm again in her unnaturally strong grasp. "I care more for you than any other person you know! I was the one who taught you how to survive! I was the one who taught you how to live, Tansho!"  
  
"Live?!" I scream at her, my anger suddenly flaring again, "You call this living?!" I throw my free hand out behind me, motioning to the tavern. Her lips form a line, an unemotional line that tells me nothing of what she is thinking in her head. "I call it dying, Asako! All of us are slowly dying, and soon we won't be here any more! Soon we'll be nothing but rotting whores buried in the goddamned ground!! We'll be nothing!!"  
  
She lets my arm go yet again and stares at me. "And just how long did it take you to figure that out?" she replies calmly, her tone deathly cold. She is unmoved, but I'm not shocked. If I were her, having seen what she's seen and done what she's done, then I would be unmoved by anything. Even death.  
  
"What did he teach you, huh?" she asks, obviously mocking me. I don't reply. I won't give her the pleasure of seeing me admit the mistake she believes I made. "Did he give you anything, Tansho? Did he?!" She stares hard at me, and I stare back. I want to tell her "Yes". Yes, he did give me something. Something that no other man ever gave me--or taught me. Love. I smile as I say the word in my head.  
  
"Love," I whisper, barely audible. But she hears, and her eyes widen in disbelief. But to my dissapointment, it is shock--not joy--that I have said such a thing. Her mouth drops open.  
  
"You're fucking kidding me..." she whispers back, shaking her head almost sadly. "You think you're in love..." It is neither a question nor a statement. It is simply words joined together to stab me in the heart and break it apart.  
  
My insides feel like they will errupt. How dare she do such a thing to me?! How dare she mock me like this?!  
  
"Do not mock me, Asako!" I suddenly scream when I see that the degrading look on her worn face is not going away. But my rage dissapears as suddenly as it appeared when I see Asako's true face--and the years beaten into it. Scars, a slightly mishapen nose that has been broken far too many times, and the black spaces in her grin. I don't judge Asako. I forgive her--even now, as she continues to degrade me and the man I love.  
  
Her demeanor suddenly changes again and she reaches a hand up to my face. Like a mother. She was like a mother to me when I first came here. And she's trying to play that role yet again, even after it's far too late to give me that true things a mother should give her daughter.  
  
"I did not mean to mock you, my dear. But that doesn't matter right now, Tansho," she says, her voice returning to the soft, yet assertive motherly tone. "What matters is that he's gone and you're not distracted anymore."  
  
Distracted. That's what she calls love. A distraction. I find that I suddenly pity her. For the first time since I have known her, I pity Aasko. Her life, her body, her mind, her soul. She is so scarred, so utterly destroyed. And I realize that she has never loved a man. Or either she did--once. That one time, and someone who told her it was a distraction, an illusion, a foolish game, was all it took. That was all it took to destroy any chance of her happiness. One time. She will never again be happy because someone told her it was simply a distraction. Just like she's telling me now.  
  
"Don't ever love a man, Tansho," she whispers to me, cupping my face with her hand, "You won't be able to do anything else ever again..except love him. Nothing else will matter to you..only him." I do love Aasko, I realize. She was right when she said she taught me how to survive. I would be dead now if it wasn't for her wisdom of being a whore, a woman, and a human being. Her wisdom of simply living kept me alive. She's not yet even thirty, but her words are so full of years.  
  
She pats my face gently and gives a weak smile. "Don't be sad that he's gone, Tansho. It's for the best--for both of you. Just forget about him. Forget that you ever knew him. If you don't, then you'll be miserable for the rest of your life." With that, she flips her hair over her shoulder again and leaves me. And when she leaves, the beginnings of thunder rumble deep in the heavens. A storm is approaching.  
  
I stand alone again on the porch, my eyes staring into the night. Forget. Forget about Tasuki, the first man I ever loved. Oh gods, how is such a thing possible? Was Asako able to do it? Is that why she is the way she is now? Because she still loves a man--or because she loved a man, and knew she could never be with him, and forgot about him.  
  
Can I forget? Can my soul and my body let go of Tasuki? His fire- like hair, his gold-laced green eyes, his gleaming fangs, his skin, his hands, his mouth, his chest, his arms. Everything. Is it possible to just heap it all into a bag and hurl it into the ocean like something you need to get rid of? No evidence left behind. No reminder. How is it possible?  
  
I look into the city long and hard, as if trying to pry my answer from the lights. He's out there, in the center of it all, safe in the emperor's palace. Is he trying to forget me as well? Will he be able to do it? Has he already done it? Am I already nothing more to him than a whore he met in a tavern and had a good time with? Or am I a vivid memory that his mind is unable to let go of. Like he is to me. Like he always will be to me. Even if I try, I know that I'll never be able to forget him. Never. Even after I die, I know that I will watch him, waiting for him to join me in heaven or hell, wherever I end up.  
  
And he said he'd always love me. And I said nothing to him. Nothing. And he's leaving tomorrow for Hokkan. He's going on a perilous mission to summon the god he serves and protect his priestess. And suddenly I realize that he may die. He may die and never know what I was thinking so fervently in my heart. The last time we saw each other, he told me he loved me and I said nothing in return. And he may die remembering that; how I stayed silent, too afraid of myself to tell him how much I loved him. He will remember me as a coward. He will die a hero and I will live a coward.  
  
"Oh gods," I whimper into the air, sealing my hands over my mouth. I sob deeply as my soul burns to life within me. I feel it stir, and I press my fingers harder to my lips to keep it from escaping. I love him. Oh, dear gods, I love him. Once you love a man, you'll never be able to do anything else. That's what Asako said to me. And once again, her wisdom hidden deep in her seemingly malicious words has revealed itself. It is clouded by a whore's scarred thoughts, but I can see it and I am wise enough myself to understand it. And, even though I know it may be the death of me, I don't care. I love a man, and that is all that I will be able to do for the rest of me life. And that man is Tasuki. And he is leaving tomorrow. "I have to tell him," I whisper to myself, to the lights of the city, to the storm slowly building itself in the sky above the capital.  
  
So, without another thought, I take the hem of my loose gown in my hands, lift it to my bare thighs, and I run. I run as fast as I am able in the direction of the palace. Above my head, the sound of thunder boils over from the gray clouds and erupts in the blackened sky. And the rain falls.  
Run, Tansho, run!!! Yaaaaay! Go Tansho!! *ahem* Well, like I promised, it is continuing. So what will happen? Will Tansho make it to the palace before Tasuki leaves for Hokkan? Or will she never see him again?! *sniffle* So sad...I don't think I want to write anymore...just too sad. Just kidding again!!! ^_^ More to come soon!  
  
Oh, p.s. Sorry again for the mean thing I did to all of you last chapter. I had no idea you would truly be so upset even if I did promise that this story wasn't over!! I felt kinda guilty for my evil deed when I was reading your reviews (which I love, by the way, so keep 'em coming!). So, just another confirmation..."Tansho" will continue!!! 


	20. The Weeping Man

Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, yadda, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit...you know the drill...  
  
Chapter 20 The Weeping Man  
  
I pay no attention to the rain that is now beating down on me like a waterfall. Desperation drives me to him like lust once did. I can already feel the muscles of my thighs burning as I run in a frenzy toward the direction of the palace. After only another minute or so, my lungs join my muscles in their consuming discomfort. I soon find myself heaving and gasping, but I keep running.  
  
I keep one hand tangled in the hem of my gown, keeping it from dragging in the dirt that is now forming into mud. Tendrils of brown hair come loose from the ribbon tied at the base of my neck and stick to my rain- soaked face. I reach my other hand up and quickly swipe away a stubborn lock from my cheek.  
  
Soon, my thin satin slippers are water-logged and I can no longer run in them without one or both falling off. Finally tiring of having to retrace my steps to recover my shoes, I halt for a moment in the street and kick them off my feet in blind fury. People passing by me, parasols poised over their heads to protect them from the rain, stare at me in interest and amusement; but I pay as much attention to them as I do to the rain.  
  
I begin to run again, suddenly painfully aware of how foolish I appear to passer-bys. My hair and gown soaked through and plastered to my naked body beneath, my feet bare and slowly becoming caked in mud-I must be an odd sight to any who catch a glimpse of me. But all self-conscious thoughts leave my head when I see the southern gates of the palace looming ahead of me.  
  
I do not stop running until I am standing in front of the gates and looking up into the faces of two guards, both staring at me in shock and confusion. I open my mouth to try to speak, but one of the men beats me to it.  
  
"What business do you have here, woman?" he asks me, stepping closer to me and lifting his head high to peer down at me. I do not even reach his chin. I stare at his red chest armor, then back away from him slowly so I do not have to strain my neck to see his face.  
  
"I have need to see Tasuki, a warrior of Suzaku," I state loudly and quickly between deep, tortured breaths, hoping they can sense my utter desperation. But their faces and demeanors are unmoved. The other guard steps forward until he is beside his comrade and looks hard at me.  
  
"No unauthorized person is allowed entrance to the palace, and certainly will have no audience with a warrior of Suzaku!" he barks at me.  
  
I stare up at them, my panic quickly overpowering my self-control. "You don't understand!" I scream, "I must see him! He knows me...ask him!!!"  
  
For a moment, I think they are considering my plea. The larger one glances at the other, but both shake their heads at me firmly. "Like I said before," one replies, "No unauthorized person is allowed inside the palace walls."  
  
"Go get him and bring him out here then!" I scream in their faces, balling my hands into fists at my side. Oh gods, I think, what if I can't get to him. What will I do?  
  
"We will not be ordered around by a street whore!" the smaller guard quickly answers, "Now be gone, woman!" He waves his hand at me like I was a child, but I remain rigid.  
  
"I must see Tasuki!!!" I howl, "Please!!!" I fall on my knees, ready to do anything to get inside. Beg them. Fuck them. Kill them. I'll do anything. I press my palms to the dirty ground and lower my head, begging like the slave I know I am.  
  
"I said leave!" the guard shouts, taking me by the upper arm, lifting me to my feet, and shoving me away from the gates. I stumble and try to remain upright, but the force of his thrust and the soft, unstable state of the ground below my bare feet causes me to lose my balance. I topple over sideways, landing on my hip in the mud. I look around, confused, bewildered, uncertain, and panicked. The desperation still drives me. I must reach him. I must find him somehow! I feel rage begin to burn, and I realize that my battle is far from over. I will see Tasuki. By the name of the gods, I will get to him somehow!  
  
I thrust my hands into the soft ground and push myself back to my feet, my dark eyes focused on the two soldiers before me, chuckling at my ridiculous appearance.  
  
And before I realize what I am doing, I am barreling into the two imperial guards like a crazed bull. I ram my shoulder into the abdomen of the one closest to me, sending him toppling over onto his comrade. Thankfully I surprise them with my sudden move, sending them both tumbling clumsily into the gates. The impact of their heavy bodies makes the monstrous double doors burst open. My own body weight causes me loose my footing and I sail over the men's heads, landing in the soft mud an unbelievable distance away from them. But I come to my senses quickly when I realize that I am inside the gates. Finally. I still have to pause a moment in my own shock at what I just did, but quickly recover when I notice the guards struggling to untangle themselves from each other and get to their feet. I bolt like a mad woman in a random direction, not knowing where I am going. I don't dare look over my shoulder. I just know that I have to get away from the two men and find Tasuki.  
  
I pump my legs hard and throw my entire body into running. I sprint across a courtyard and soon find myself running on the elongated veranda of one of the palace's many wings. My feet echo and vibrate wildly on the smooth wood, and the heavy boots of the guards following me reverberate in my ears, mingling with the storm's thunder and the rhythmic thumping of the rain on the ground and palace rooftops.  
  
I know that if I'm caught, I will be imprisoned, or even executed for daring to enter the palace grounds without permission. But I don't give a fuck. I just know that I have to tell Tasuki what I couldn't before. I have to tell him, even if it costs me my life. I must find him. I must.  
  
I turn a corner and before I can think twice about what I am doing, I grab the handle of a door, fling it open, throw myself inside, and close it. I press my shoulder against the door, holding the inside handle so it doesn't open back up and begin to pray madly to every single god I know of. I hear the guards' footsteps approaching, but they don't even pause at the door. They barrel on, intent on finding me, unaware of my hiding place.  
  
I heave a sigh and sink to my knees, my white-knuckled hand still gripping the door handle.. I'll wait here for a while before going to look for Tasuki again. Maybe the guards will think I fled the palace grounds and call off the search. I have no idea what I will do if I am forced to stay the night here. I know for sure that if I am discovered now, there will be more than enough reason to have me imprisoned--or worse. I breathe deeply and force myself to think about Tasuki. I must find him. I have to tell him. I cannot let him leave tomorrow thinking that I never cared anything for him when in reality he is the only man I have ever cared for.  
  
I feel so exhausted from the night's ordeal. My face is still stinging and aching horribly from my beating earlier. And the hard rain that soaked me during my mad dash for the palace certainly didn't help my wounds at all. I pray that I don't catch cold or fever from the time I spent in the rain. I think about what to do next, never thinking to look over my shoulder, never thinking who might be there.  
  
"Tansho?!" I hear his voice echo inside my head like the thunder booming outside. I stare into the dark wood of the door in front of me, my eyes wide yet blind. My breath heaves in and out of my lungs. My heart pumps madly in my rib cage. It cannot be. It cannot be him.  
  
I turn slowly, thinking the voice was only inside my head, thinking that what I will see behind me is not him but an apparation of him, a ghost in my head.  
  
But it is him. I see his fire red hair first, just as it was when he left me. Then his piercing green eyes that widen when his own doubts as to whether or not it's really me are evaporated. He stares so strangely at me, in a way he has never before looked at me. I cannot even begin to piece together the emotions flowing out of his eyes and into me.  
  
He is sitting on a bed next to the wall. He is naked save for his tan trousers and black boots. His black coat is draped heavily over the back of chair in a corner of the room; and his white undershirt, belt, and golden sheath and fan are heaped in a pile in the chair's seat. I watch as he bends down for a moment to remove his boots from his feet. I must have walked in on him as he was undressing.  
  
As he slides the boots off, his eyes remain locked on mine as if he were afraid that if he looked away for only a moment, I would be gone when he looked back. Only when my body begins to shiver from the wetness of my gown, does he get up and move towards me.  
  
"Tansho," he whispers once he is standing in front of me, "What are you doing here? How did you get in?" He looks down at my trembling form curled on the floor, my fingers still wrapped around the door handle. He looks at me like it is the first time he's seen me in years.  
  
I don't hear anything he has said to me. I don't care about anything but him, his eyes, his hair, the tanned gleam of his naked torso, the way he is looking at me. I don't care about anything else but telling him. I must tell him the truth--the entire truth about me. About everything.  
  
"I love you," I say quietly, staring up at him. And I almost want to cry at how beautiful it sounds. Such small words that control people so fiercely. Such small words that took control of me so easily--as well as him. I am amazed at how their sound makes Tasuki's eyes deepen, like the green undertows of the ocean. And suddenly, he has collapsed on the ground in front of me and I am pressed into him so firmly it feels as if his heart is beating in my own chest. I mold to him so well, as if our bodies were created to connect to each other and no one else.  
  
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him against me. And he envelopes my entire back with his arms, pulling my body upwards into his, crushing my freezing skin to the warmth of his bare chest. I relish the feel of him against me again. It has been less than an hour, but I have missed the touch of him so badly.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Tasuki," I whisper into his ear, my ragged breath causing his earring to bounce against his neck. "I want to go to Mount Reikaku with you..". I pause to pull away from him so I can talk to his face, but I only cling tighter than before. "I would go with you now if you asked me. If you could leave...if you didn't have your duty to your priestess and the beast god...I would leave with you right now if you asked me."  
  
He pulls away slowly and stares down at me, his eyes burning like his hair. "I would take you...if I could. You know I would never let him or anyone else ever hurt you again. You would be safe with me...you would never have to do what people told you again."  
  
"I know," I answer. "Please forgive me for not telling you before you left. I tried, I wanted to, but I was a coward." I shake my head as if the memory could be dislodged. "Please forgive me for lying to you. For everything I did to you..."  
  
"I do, Tansho," he answers the minute I am quiet again. I am unbelievably moved by his immediate, quiet, simple response, and I cry out my happiness into his shoulder. "I forgive everything, Tansho." He says my name again and again into my ear, whispering it as if he would never tire of it, never be able to speak it again.  
  
And without warning, his body begins to tremble against mine. It is not violent; I can barely feel it. But I do feel it, probably more than he does himself. And I can hear him try to control his sudden sobbing as tears begin to mingle with rain on the shoulder of my gown and in my dark hair. He is weeping. I can feel him and hear him. He is weeping on my account, but I do not know if it because I caused him grief or joy. But the simple fact that he is weeping tells me far more than his words could ever. A man only weeps for people he loves. Whether it be another man, a woman, or a child. This is the only time a true man dares to weep. I learned this long ago with my father, who wept only twice in my memory of him--when my mother passed away, and when I was taken away by Shingen.  
  
I grip Tasuki like he could vanish. And I let his tears soak my hair as I listen to him, his voice mingled with sorrow and unbelievable joy as he repeats my name again and again in a low whisper, not stopping until he stops crying. Only then is he silent, only then does his body become still, and only then does he dare to look at me again.  
  
"I was so afraid that I'd never see you again," he says to me, his voice returning to a whisper, "I love you so much, Tansho. To lose the first woman you ever loved after only just meeting her...I was so afraid I would..."  
  
He doesn't want to let me go. His arms seem to grow tired of being wrapped sercurely around me, but when they begin to loosen, he only tightens them more. I lay my head in the valley between his shoulder and chest and hold onto him, telling him I don't want to let him go either. If we could just die like this, together; and not have to worry about the tavern, Shingen, Hokkan, Suzaku--everything that is trying to keep us apart from each other. Fate cruelly and graciously allows us meet, then begins to rip us apart like two halves of a paper. How goddamned unfair. How malicious.  
  
But I know better than to argue with fate. I will not try to persuade Tasuki not to journey to Hokkan. I know who he is and I know his duty to his priestess and his god. I cannot change any of that, and I will not attempt to. He'll leave tomorrow, and I will remain here in Konan, in the Black Dove. But I will wait for him as long as it takes for him to return to me. Then, he will leave again; but this time it will be a journey home. And I will be walking beside him. Somehow, I will go with him. I don't care about Shingen or even the memories of my old home. As long as I can be with Tasuki, I can be happy.  
  
Yes, he'll leave tomorrow and may never return. I understand this cruel chance. But only fate can decide that as well. But whether or not he returns to me, there is still one more night remaining for us. After everything that has taken place in the duration of our short love affair, there is one night remaining that can give us the peace of mind that we have been denied. And I have one more chance to show him my true love for him. No lies. No pain. Just us. And I know that neither of us will let our last night go to waste.  
Words to live by, my dear Tansho--never let the night go to waste!! ^_^ Well, let's see here...quite alot going on, isn't there? And just what does Tansho have in mind for her and Tasuki's possible last night together? *Iseult rolls her eyes and lets an evil grin slip* Must you ask??!!  
  
Most of us probably know whether or not Tasuki returns from Hokkan safe (for those of you who don't..have no fear..I won't spoil anything for you until it's time for the story to end...then the spoilers are gonna pile up kinda high!!!) So, unfortunately, we will not hear from Tasuki for a while...But don't worry, there will be many, many, many more things going on during dear Tasuki's absence!!! Come back and read more soon, OK?!  
  
And thank you all so much for your reviews!! I love to hear your comments on what moves you, upsets you, and makes you think. They encourage me and prove to me that my efforts on this fanfic-turned-novel is worth all the time I have! ^_^ 


	21. The Gentle Burning

Disclaimer: I don't own FY or Tasuki, so please stay the hell away from me. But I do own Tansho, so stay the hell away from her as well.  
  
Chapter 21 The Gentle Burning  
  
"You're soaking wet!!" Tasuki suddenly replies. His tone has transformed from sorrowful to amused. He has a strange way of doing that, yet I find a warm comfort in it. I have never liked a man to brood over things, whether they be great or small. Tasuki seems to understand this. "Is it raining?" he asks.  
  
"It started when you left. I followed almost right after you...when I made you leave," I say, suddenly feeling the shame of how I treated him. Telling him to go--to go away from me. "I didn't want to say those things, Tasuki. I really..." I try to explain myself further to him, but his fingers are suddenly pressed close to my lips, bringing back to my mind the fresh memories of our meeting by the latrines.  
  
"Don't talk about that now," he says to me in his sensual voice, the one that I have memorized, "All that's over." He raises his eyebrows, waiting patiently for my response, my understanding. I nod silently, finally realizing that what I said to him on the veranda means nothing to us at this moment.  
  
He leans over and lightly kisses my forehead. Instinctivly, I move into him. He releases his firm hold on me finally, but I instantly want him back, pressing me into him like he was only a few moments before. He reaches a hand up, brushes away strands of my wet bangs, and trails his lips above my eyebrows again. I feel his soft, unruly hair glide like flower petals over my forehead, and the erotic tightening in my lower abdomen instantly begins. Out of familiarity with his gentle touch, my knees weaken and I lean hard into him, trying to ease my already developing ache for him.  
  
Gods, how I desire this man! He could simply touch a stand of my hair and I would instantly want to take him. His sensuality makes me sick with lust. And yet I realized long ago, when I first laid the palm of my hand on the warmth of his bare stomach, that my emotions for him go far beyond simple lust for his body. I do crave him, though. His eyes, his mouth, his hair, his hands. I lust after every part of his body, but I also have an unquenchable longing for his words, his soul, his heart--the things that govern the body I desire so fervently. The burning and tightening of my insides worsen until I have to stiffle a soft moan.  
  
And I wonder if his feelings toward me are similar. I know for a fact that he tried his best to resist me. At first, he thought no more of me than he did of the other harlots that lusted after him like wild animals. What made him love me? Certainly not only my beauty. Koi, Misa, Okichi, and Asako's beauty is older than mine, of course; but they're bodies are no more tainted than my own. So, the only thing that remains is what I hold inside of me. My soft words, my vulgar humor, and my unabashed wit--all brought together in a strange elixer to create the woman I am known as. Not that my seductiveness didn't help, because Tasuki and I both know that it did. And strangely enough, these things are also all found in the man I love. He is sensual, humorous, vulgar, sarcastic, kind, and unbelieveably seductive. Fate is no fool. She knows what she is doing.  
  
All the while my thoughts are running wild, so are his lips. Soon, he has strayed from my forehead and is now hovering over my mouth like a heavy fog. But even though I feel his own desire coursing through him steadily, he refrains from kissing me. Instead, he backs away slowly and looks down at me, a side-ways smile on his face.  
  
And just as his hands reach out to me again, a loud bang from outside echoes inside the room, causing him to return his arms to his sides as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't. With a start, I realize that it is no doubt the guards I encountered at the gates. Of course they would come to Tasuki's room. A strange woman approached the southern gates of the palace in the middle of the night and demanded to see Tasuki, one of the warriors of Suzaku. I mentally slap myself. It was foolish of me to announce who I was looking for, but then again, I suppose it was my desperation that took over.  
  
I give Tasuki a nervous glance and press my fingertips to his mouth as a sign for him not to speak too loud.  
  
"Master Tasuki!" a masculine voice yells from outside, followed by another series of loud bangs on the wooden door.  
  
He takes my shoulders and pulls me close to him, then tilts his head until his lips are next to my ear. "How did you get in the palace, Tansho?" he whispers.  
  
"I attacked the guards and broke through the gates," I reply matter- of-factly. The look he gives me almost makes me break into a fit of giggles, but I know better than to make light of the present situation I've been caught in. I still have to grin at the shock painted on his face. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as if trying to calm himself.  
  
"Move over here," he whispers to me, taking my hand and pulling me beside one of the other doors and pressing my back to the wall. I'll be hidden behind the door when he opens it to speak with the guards.  
  
"Don't worry," he mouths to me as he steps back in front of the door. After a few moments of disheveling his clothes and ruffling his hair to feign being awakened he roughly yanks the door open and gives a chilling stare at the men on the other side.  
  
"What the hell do you want?!" he yells at them, pretending to be seriously annoyed. His irritated demeanor must be believable; the guards can't seem to fine their voices. "Well?" he barks.  
  
"Par-pardon us, Master Tasuki, we did not mean to-to wake you.but.there is an intruder in the palace.a woman who claims that she-"  
  
"A woman?!" Tasuki shouts, feigning disbelief. "You're out there banging on my door, waking me up in the middle of the damn night because of one woman?! I didn't know that one little girl could cause you guys to piss your pants." I bite my lips to stifle another giggle. He stands there and glares at them, seeming to dare them to speak again. When they can't seem to find a reply to his outburst, he seems pleased. Then his light smirk transforms to anger. "Well, get the hell on! I'm tryin' to sleep, dammit!"  
  
With that, he slams the door in their faces. Once we hear the reluctant retreat of their heavy boots echoing on the wooden veranda, we can't hold our laughter in any longer. I collapse in laughter into his outstretched arms. I am more relieved than I am amused, and I think Tasuki is as well.  
  
"You didn't really attack them , did you?" he asks once our laughter quiets.  
  
"Well, sort of," I admit truthfully, "I rammed into one with my shoulder and knocked him over onto the other one. Then they both fell back onto the gates, knocked them open. I ran through, got chased by them for awhile, ducked in here to get away.and.here I am!" I flash him a playful smile, give him a light kiss on the lips, and try to walk around him towards the fire. I think I'll freeze if I stay in this wet gown any longer!  
  
But before I can take a single step, I feel his arm snake around my waist and pull me to him until my back is pressed firmly against his chest. And instead of trying to squirm away, I melt into him, leaning all of my weight gratefully on him. He runs his hands up and down my arms, trying to generate heat to smooth the goose bumps on my skin caused by the chill of the rain. I lean my head back and settle it in the valley of his throat, turning my face to the side just enough to kiss his shoulder.  
  
Suddenly, he takes my arms again and turns me around until I'm facing him. And before I can protest or even notice what he's doing, he begins to tug at the sash of my rain-soaked gown. Strangely, my previously un-used modesty flares and I pull away from him in shock.  
  
He looks at me with furrowed brows and an unbelieving look on his face. "Hell of a time to be actin' shy!" he cries out with a curt laugh, his usual heavy accent drawling his words. I frown.  
  
"Don't you make fun of me!" I spit back, not insulted by his remark but rather annoyed by the amused look on his face. "You start pulling on my clothes like some horny old man...what do expect me to do?"  
  
He grins at me wider and begins to laugh softly, then gives me another shocked look of unbelief. "You do that to me all the time, Tansho!!" he retorts.  
  
"So?" I reply quickly. "At least I give you a warning!"  
  
"Umm...if you ever did...I never noticed it," he answers, moving closer to me again, his hands reaching for my sash. "Consider this a warning," he replies, beginning work on undoing my gown, "You're wet and you'll catch cold if you stay in that dress." He seems to notice my annoyance again and quickly continues. "You can wear my shirt for a while can't you?"  
  
He looks out at me from beneath his heavy red bangs, his shining irises enchanting the hell out of me. I am even further annoyed, realizing that his simplest gesture can make me do whatever he wishes. He smiles at me alluringly as he finally unties the sash and lets it fall to the ground at my feet. The thin gown hangs open in front with nothing to keep it closed, and it is too easy for him to slip him hands over my shoulders and nudge the fabric away from my skin until it, too, flutters to my feet.  
  
I stand naked in front of him, but the shame of my bare body died long ago. I am not embarrassed or self-conscious. In front of his eyes, I feel at home. I feel I belong here. They are so different from other men's eyes--so unselfish. He takes me in slowly. I watch in erotic amusement as he roams over the slopes of my shoulders, down the full double curves of my breasts, and over the width of my womanly hips--his eyes showing his fascination as they travel slowly down the entire length of my body. He has seen me several times before, but he looks at me like it was the first time. I smile sweetly, like a woman should when she has pleased a man. But then cold courses through my body as a draft hits my skin. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, bringing Tasuki out of his studies.  
  
"I'm so stupid," he mumbles, shaking his head. He turns and grabs up his white cotton shirt from the chair behind him. "Here, put this on until your dress dries." He bunches up the material in his hands, ready to help me pull it over my head. Obeying him, I lift my arms and I watch in delight as his eyes widen considerably at the obvious movement of my breasts. He halts momentarily, his eyes resuming their lustful stare. I realize that I like for him to look at me, and I lean my head to one side alluringly, inviting him to look all he wants. But soon I am too cold to care whether or not I am arousing him, and I clear my throat and lift my arms higher. Finally, he lifts the shirt above me and helps me work my arms and head gently into it, pulling it down over my naked form. He carefully wraps his hand around the curtain of my brown hair and untucks it from the shirt collar, his fingers lingering on after he has rearranged it over my shoulders.  
  
He smiles at me when I drop my arms again. His fangs gleam in the dim light of the room like diamonds. His eyes burn with hunger, and I wonder for a moment if he will lose control and take me before I can say a word. I suddenly find that I wouldn't mind it one bit if he did. But, strangely, he takes his hand away from my hair without even touching my face. He picks up my sash and gown from the floor and arranges them carefully over the back of the chair so they will dry evenly, then sets it close to the small fire burning in the room's hearth. I take a moment to relish the feel of his shirt on my chilled skin. It is soft from so much wear and warm from being near the fire, and its thick fabric strongly carries his scent of masculinity and nature. It is almost as if I am touching his skin, not just his shirt. I wrap my arms around myself as if I could bring him closer to me.  
  
"Come here," he replies, motioning for me to sit on his bed. "Your feet are covered in mud! Were ya' running barefoot or something?" I smile and do as he asks me.  
  
"My slippers fell off," I answer when I have made myself comfortable on the bed by the wall. "So I just left them in the streets somewhere."  
  
"No matter," Tasuki says, "You got cute feet anyway--when they're clean." He chuckles to himself and fills a large basin with a pitcher of water on a small table near the bed. He grabs a cloth and picks up the basin from the table, careful not to spill the water as he walks to the bed and kneels at my mud-caked feet.  
  
"You're gonna clean my feet?" I ask slowly, half surprised and half amused.  
  
"Sure," he answers, moving himself into a cross-legged position, "Why not?" He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and the familiar tingling deep in my abdomen is awakened for the second time since I entered his room. Only Tasuki's eyes and hands and body could do this to me--only him.  
  
He dunks the cloth in the basin of water and wrings it out. I feel the longing in my belly begin to burn harder when he takes one of my feet in his hands and begins to gently scrub away at the already-drying mud. He dunks the cloth again, quickly turning the water a light shade of reddish- brown.  
  
When he finishes rubbing the mud off my right foot, he settles it in the hollow between his crossed legs and begins patting it and my lower calf dry with another cloth. I relish in the warmth of his hands, the pressure of his fingers holding my heel. I am astonished that such little, seeminlgy unimportant actions are so emotional to me. I am fascinated with this man. Everything about him is so wonderful. The way he touches me, kisses me, speaks to me, holds me, makes love to me...it's all something I never thought I would have. And yet I do have it, right here in front of me. And I realize that I would do anything to keep it from leaving me--to keep him from leaving me.  
  
He begins to wash my left foot now, repeating his gentle motions from before. I know I have to tell him all. I have already told him about me and Shingen, but I have yet to tell him about how I came to be in Shingen's possesion; and about Mount Reikaku, the place I once called my home, the place he wants to take me to once he returns from Hokkan.  
  
"Tasuki," I reply, annoyed at how nervous my voice sounds. I have no need to be nervous around him; he loves me, and I love him. I force my voice to take on its previous nonchalance. "I want to tell you something."  
  
He looks up only briefly to urge me on with the flicker in his eyes. "Okay," he says, returning his attention to a stubborn smear of mud on my ankle.  
  
"Do you remember when I told you about myself?" I begin. He stops rubbing my foot, but keeps his head lowered. "I want to tell you why...I mean I want to tell you how I came to be a... slave." I hate saying the word. It tastes like acid on my tongue, burning and eating away at me. I run the words I want to tell him through my mind. What will he do when he hears where I was born? How I came to be in Shingen's possession. How will he react to it all?  
  
I feel his fingers tighten around my ankle and foot, almost out of nervousness. Or maybe he doesn't know what to do or say to me now that I'm finally about to tell him everything. I say a quick prayer to any god who will listen to me. Maybe none of them hear it--maybe all of them do. The gods have never seemed to pay much attention to me. I scold myself for not following the example of the other women and going with them on their weekly visits to the shrines and temples. Perhaps if I had paid more attention to the gods, they would pay me some attention at this moment when I needed it most. Perhaps if I knew that they truly existed, then I would have cared. But I could not remember one time I had received any help from them-any mercy. I just hope that either way, my heart will finally lose its burden and allow peace to fill up the hole that will be left behind.  
A/N: Ah, yet another of my infamous cliff-hangers!! *A mob of Tansho and Tasuki fans grab their machetes and begin swinging violently at Iseult* Please, do calm yourselves, everything is about to be revealed!! Yaaay!! You'll finally hear all about Tansho's mysterious past--aren't you so happy you could just rip all of Tasuki's clothes off and completely maul him??!! ^_^ *Ahem!* Sorry about that! I have the frantic need to get my perverted thoughts out in another lemon.. ^_^  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Tensai-yuki: You know, I've actually entertained the idea of Tansho meeting Miaka and the others, but you'll just have to wait and see what I decided to do. ^_^  
  
Penguine: Thanks so much! And as for Tasuki's eyes.I knew someone would point this out to me again. I know that they're amber in the anime series, OAVs, and most of the pics you can find of him. But when I first started watching FY, I found a pic of him where his eyes are dark green and not the normal amber color. For some reason, I just thought green eyes suited him better so that's why I decided to write him as having them.  
  
Zerianyu: Actually, I really am planning to become a freelance writer and novelist once I get out of college. ^_^  
  
Shadow priestess: Thanks.but don't learn to write like me.learn to write like yourself! ^_^ Just read whatever you can get your hands on and learn from other authors (that's what I did!! ^_^)  
  
Shadowkeyu: You'll see why I decided to do what I did. It really makes the storyline take on a feel of reality and will definitely hook you if you were only half into this fic before. And about her father giving her up.details on that soon!! (promise!!)  
  
Thanks again for all the great reviews!!! Luv you!!! 


	22. The Past and What Is To Come

Disclaimer: I own my OCs but not FY and its characters. *sigh* I would really like to stop writing these damn things, but I kinda think they're funny. ^_^  
  
Chapter 22 The Past and What Is To Come  
  
Now that the time to reveal my true past has finally come, I am unsure of myself and my ability to speak the words that need to be spoken. I feel numb. The warm desire deep in my abdomen has been replaced with a thick churning of bile. I swallow hard again and again, afraid that I will vomit from nervousness.  
  
I realize that I have only one chance to make things right between Tasuki and myself. In only a few hours' time, he will be bound for Hokkan. And he may never return. I must force myself to speak, to tell my all. If not for the relief my own burdened heart, than for my fierce love for Tasuki.  
  
I look down at him and his untamed beauty. I sigh to myself, my breath tinted with both sadness and amusement. What has this man done to me? How has he done this to me? Why him? Why not the dozens of other men whom I thought were beautiful? His soul, of course. Fool, I think to myself, how many times must you tell yourself? His soul is like no other's. It's purity and love has seeped from his skin and saturated my own. He has sunk into my bones, never to dislodge. And I never wish him to.  
  
I continue looking down at his fiery hair, knowing that he will eventually look up at me. Either he will meet my gaze when I utter the first word, or after I have sighed the last. Before or after my heart drains its sorrow, our eyes will meet. I breathe in deeply, impatiently awaiting that moment.  
  
"I was born at the foot of Mount Reikaku." So it begins. After so many years of having to keep my grief to myself, my story is to finally be unraveled. How strange the words sound on my lips-- like another woman's, and not mine at all. And the taste that lingers behind. Bittersweet. Stale. A hint of spice. So strange. Perhaps these are another woman's memories. Perhaps she is the past me, the one who lived this simple life and then the one whose simple life was ripped away. Perhaps this is why my words sound and taste so unnatural in my mouth. Maybe she will be buried when I am through.  
  
At the sound of my words, his eyes shoot through his heavy bangs to meet mine. I smile at him. Just as I had expected--he is surprised. I'm sure he never expected me to say that my birthplace is his home as well. I wonder if he will say something. A question, maybe only a cry of shock. But I don't give him time to speak. I must do the speaking. And I cannot stop now that I have begun. Only when this weight is lifted from my body and soul can I return to silence, to recover and rest after my life of laboring and exhaustion. My smile widens at the thought. I look forward to the tranquil rest that I have earned.  
  
"I lived in a little city in the valley. My mother was a tailoress and had her own buisness, and my father owned a tavern near our house. We weren't wealthy people, but our life was very comfortable compaired to others. We lived well until my father's tavern burned down and he was left without work. We had to depend soley upon mother's tailoring work for nearly three years. Then she became pregnant with my youngest brother...and died giving birth to him..."  
  
I try not to pause here, but I can't help it. I try to block my consciousness from the visions bombarding me. But they come like a flood, like a storm, and they linger. The vision of my mother slowly dying has appeared in my mind and it refuses to leave me. Her mouth open wide as the blood pours from between her legs like a fountain. I remember just standing there and watching as the midwife tried to pull the baby out by force so she could stop my mother's bleeding. My mother's screams of pain- and sheer terror. My brother finally came, and I watched on in horror as my mother's eyelids closed the very minute she touched him. I remember watching the old midwife wipe the blood from my brother and his weight in my arms when she gave him to me to hold, sending me out of the room so that she could bathe my mother's corpse and prepare her for burial. I remember her telling me that it was the least she could do for us. The smell of my mother's blood on the midwife's hands, on my brother's smooth skin, fascinated me and saddened me at the same time. And my brother. His squinting, ocean-colored eyes. His toothless, gaping mouth. His silken hair. His beauty. My dead mother's son, and my brother.  
  
"Tansho..." I hear Tasuki whisper, squeezing my ankle gently to re- awaken me. I guess that the memory is obvious on my face. Wetness trickles down the curves of my cheeks, and I don't bother to brush the tears away. They help me heal; I would be a fool to try to stop them. I keep my eyes situated on the wall, not daring to look my lover in the eyes just yet.  
  
"We had no way to support ourselves for nearly a year. My father tried to find work, but couldn't. He asked a wealthy friend from the capital for a loan to keep us on our feet for a while as he looked for work in neighboring towns and villages. It didn't take long for my father's so- called-friend to come banging on our door, demanding my father to pay his debt. He said he'd kill us all if he didn't pay, but Father had no money..."  
  
I stop again. There is a lump in my throat the size of my fist. The water keeps leaking silently from my eyes. My stomach churns. My mouth goes dry. But I have to keep talking. I must. I must.  
  
"He didn't have any money, so my Father gave me to Shingen as payment for the debt. He had to.everyday Shingen would come by our house and threaten to kill us if he didn't get his money. My Father had to.to protect my brothers and my sister. And I was the oldest.so."  
  
I know the rest. He knows the rest. But I understand that it still must be said-just as everything else was sais.  
  
"And so Shingen brought me here, to the capital, to the Black Dove, where I have been for the past five years," I reply with surprising ease, "And that is how I came to be who I am."  
  
The hollowness of my body has returned, but this is not a painful emptiness--it is a breathtaking release. I heave a sigh and flutter my eyelids, feeling the tears begging to dry. It has been told. It has been heard. I look down at him, and I wait.  
  
His eyes are locked on my face, and I try to pry into his mind to see what he is thinking. Does he pity me? I know that he cannot be angry, he said he had forgiven me for the lies I told him. But does he pity me and my sorrowful past? Or is it shock? Disbelief? I try to read his eyes but I can't see anything but their dark green and golden shimmering. They are hiding everything from me. I want to press my forehead to his, to connect with his mind somehow, just to see the inside of him. Oh gods, tell me what he is thinking, I plead. Oh please let him speak to me. I cannot stand the silence and the overwhelming power of his staring eyes. Their intensity is enveloping me. Does he not realize the power he has over me?  
  
"Please say something," I whisper huskily, pleading with him. His fingers release my foot and he moves the muddy-watered basin away from him. I watch as he gets to his knees and kneels in front of me. He gently pushes my thighs together until my knees touch, then lays his head in the naked hollow of my lap, his hands resting on my hips. He caresses my skin through the fabric of his soft cotton shirt that he loaned to me, awakening me instantly with his serene and luxurious touch. Confused by his strange yet gentle actions, I lean over him and press my cheek to the cool smoothness of his shiny red hair. The fingers of my right hand slowly comb through his hair while my other hand rests on his back. He hugs my lap when I touch him, and I hug him in return.  
  
"Tell me what to say, Tansho," he whispers into the skin on my thigh, causing warmth to spread down over my knee and all the way up my hip. "I don't know what to say to you." His voice is so burdened with passion. For me. For my hurting, my love, my body, my soul, and all the sadness hanging in the air. He sounds as if he could die in my lap and be content knowing that he was touching me when he left this world. I kiss his hair and he kisses my naked thigh in return.  
  
"Say that you love me, Tasuki," I answer him, whispering the words softly. Even though there are a thousand words he could say to me to ease the pain of my heart, these are the only ones I would believe, the only ones that could melt away the sorrow from around my soul. These are the only ones that I truly need to hear, long to hear. And I want them as much as I want him.  
  
My heart seems to slow as I wait. I stop my breath, and I feel him shift beneath me. He lifts his head from my lap and lets go of my hips. He spreads my legs, making the throbbing desire between them suddenly flare. His fingers linger on my inner thighs for a moment, and he looks up at me with his deep, haunting eyes as if finally trying to share his mind with me. The warmth of his hands seems to burn the delicate skin on the inside of my legs, and I bite my lip in anticipation of what he will do to me next.  
  
"I love you," he says to me, leaning forward into me. He moves himself between my legs slowly and gently, his body communicating to mine somehow. He plants one foot on the floor to lift himself slightly, pushing himself upward and into my embrace. Our bodies connect, his naked chest pressing to my breasts, his stomach pressing to mine, his hands on the bed to catch us as we fal. I respond quickly, my arms wrapping themselves around him instinctively. We fall upon his bed slowly, like a wave upon the sand. My legs are spread open and curled around him, resting comfortably on his hips. He trails a line of soft kisses along my jaw and neck and buries his face in my wet hair, and I hear him breath in the scent of rain mixed with the scent of my body. I press my cheek to his, completing our chaste but sensual embrace  
  
He leans his weight harder into me and curls an arm under my back, partially picking me up, straightening us out on the bed so our legs won't be dangling over the side. He slowly lies down on top of me, his warmth immediately enveloping my entire body. I welcome every bit of him. I inhale deeply, relieved and overjoyed that so many burdens have been finally lifted from me. I relish the subtle scent of his skin, the heat of his chest covering me, the warm breeze I feel on my neck every time he exhales. I consume him from the outside in, knowing that I won't be satisfied until I have had every last part of him.  
  
"You aren't angry with me?" I whisper into his ear, so close that I am kissing his earring.  
  
"Why would I be angry with you?" he asks, pulling his arm out from beneath me and using it to support himself as his other hand twists a wet tendril of my hair around its fingers. He shifts his body to lay beside me and relieve me of some of his weight. He lifts his head from my hair and lets his face hover inches above mine. I can feel the heat of his breath on my cheeks. I can see straight into his eye, and their strangeness enchants me. They hold a power over me, controlling and manipulating me. But I don't resist them.  
  
"For the lies,.for how long it took me to tell you the truth.for what I said to you on the veranda...for what I didn't say to you..." Actually, I should beg his forgiveness for many other things than just these few. I have no right to him. I have no right to be so close to his face, to be so warm beneath him, to be so captivated by his mere presence. But he seems to think I do.  
  
"I told you that none of that matters now," he answers me, his eyes demanding that I understand, "But what does matter is that I go, complete my duty, and come back." The emerald and gold sheen of his eyes brighten for a moment, and all I can do is stare at them. "And you said that you'd come with me, didn't you? You would come back to the mountain even though you would be returning to the place of your birth? Could you do that? Are you ready to do that?" His voice tries to be calm and smooth, but his worry is evident in every word.  
  
I unwrap my arms from around his neck and back and press my palms to his cheeks. "If you were with me, I would be ready to die," I say to him. He smiles, but closes his eyes almost in sadness.  
  
"We have many years before we come to that...but either way, that's damn good to know," he answers slowly, his words once again heavy with his familiar nonchalance. He lowers his mouth close to mine and whispers words into my mouth, the words that I am addicted to hearing now  
  
"I love you."  
  
I won't let him tease me anymore. Before he can lift himself and bury his face in my hair again, I crush his half-naked body to mine and seal my mouth hungrily over his. Although it has only been a couple of days, it seems so long since I last kissed him. I savor the familiarity of his taste, always having the subtle flavor of sake prominent on his tongue. I feel as if I am drinking him, gently taking his emotions into me by way of our mouths sealed together. The brush of his fangs across the thin skin of the inside of my lips causes a moan to rise from my throat unintentionally, and I kiss him even more fiercely. He smiles into my mouth, obviously pleased with himself at how I'm reacting to him.  
  
"Take me with you," I plead, the sound of my voice echoing inside his mouth. He stops kissing me and wrenches his lips from mine, almost as if I have stung him. He looks confused, and suddenly I realize what I just asked him. I thought I would be content to wait for him to return from Hokkan, then leave with him for Mount Reikaku. But my heart seems to want something different. Inside my soul, I don't want him to leave me behind. And I let my soul speak, instead of my logic.  
  
"To Hokkan?" he asks, "Tansho...no...no, I can't take you. It's too dangerous."  
  
"Please," I whisper, "I can't wait here, not knowing if you're hurt...or dead. I want to be there with you. I can't stay here alone."  
  
"Tansho." The way he says my name makes the burning in my abdomen ignite yet again and begin to spread over me. I even feel it sprout on my insides, tangling with my veins and my organs. "I'll be fine. And I'll come back. And I'll take you with me when I go home." He lowers his lips to my forehead and kisses me softly between the eyes. "Believe me. Please."  
  
I try to believe him, and I am ashamed that I can't put all of my trust in him. I should be able to. Unlike me, he doesn't lie. But can I truly stay here for a month, three months, half a year--alone? Without him to comfort me, to tell me he loves me, to hold me, to make love to me, to talk to me, to listen to me? Oh dear gods, is such a thing possible? I pray that it is. I know that I cannot go with him. Even though I would gladly die beside him, I know he would never even allow me to stand next to him in the first place. If possible, he would forever keep me behind him-- safe from everything that the world could use against me.  
  
"I believe you," I finally answer. Another damn lie. Is this the only thing I am able to do well besides pleasing a man? Lie? I feel like crying. In shame, I bury my face in his neck, trying to drown my doubt in the red blaze of his hair and the cool smoothness of his earring on my temple. He smells like me, I realize. It seems fit, seeing as how our bodies have been pressed together so many times. Or perhaps it is me who has taken his scent upon myself.  
  
Please Tansho, I beg myself, please don't doubt him. If you doubt him, you will lose him.  
  
I will do anything humanly possible to keep him in this world. So I force myself to see him. I imagine the days of the near future. Everything is done, finished, over. I am well; he is unhurt and alive. I am standing on the veranda of the tavern, and he is facing me. His familiar smirk and tantalizing fangs adorn his face. He seems tired but happy. Tired from his journey; happy that he has returned, that we will be going home. Our home, on the mountain--together.  
  
In my mind's eye, I watch us walk away together. I don't even bother to take anything with me from the tavern. I need nothing but him. I am free, unburdened, and anticipating my new life. My life. My new life with Tasuki. I watch us go home, and my heart is finally able to believe him. My doubts are vanquished by the warmth of his breath on my neck, and I surrender to his eager and gentle hands, believing in all that is to come.  
A/N: *Hysterical applause fills Iseult's computer room* Finally, it has been revealed!!! Tansho's mysterious past has been told!!! Oh thank god, now I don't have to fret over your reviews anymore nagging me to finally tell you how she came to be in the brothel. Now I can lie back and cruise through the rest of the story....^_^ Ahhhhhh, the simple life.....  
  
So, what will happen next? Surely, these two will not let their last night together before Tasuki leaves for Hokkan go to waste (*Iseult curiously sniffs at the air* Hhhmm...is there a citrus scent floating around in here...or is it just me? ^_^) Hint hint...  
  
P.S. A/N: I have a request for all of you. I asked this of my reader's the first time I posted "Tansho" on FF before it was deleted and got some pretty good info, but I'm curious as to what you guys think. I need some guesses on the amount of time Miaka and the seishi spent on the ship, in Hokkan, and in Sairo-basically, how long was the trip for the shinzahos? This doesn't include the big battle at the end of the anime series, though. After watching the anime again, I've calculated the time frame to be less than a month, but that doesn't seem right to me for some reason. If you're an avid watcher of the series, please do tell me what you think. I'm aware that the time frame of the trip differs somewhat between the anime and manga, so keep in mind that I'm going along with the anime storyline.  
  
Thanks so much for your help!!  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Nako-chan: OK, about how long will this fic be in all? To be blunt, in it's completed form, I consider it an epic. I knew from the beginning that this story would be one of my biggest projects, mostly because I took such care in developing Tansho's character. I couldn't have ever made it a dozen- chapter story or anything less.  
  
Spak-chan: Canada was rally nice. I went the first week of March with my Senior class. It was soooo cold, though (I live in Georgia where the temperature hardly ever gets below 40 degrees F. in mid-winter). I'll e- mail you some time and tell you more details if you'd like. ^_^  
  
Zerianyu: You know, I've read fics like that where the quality kinda tapers off after a while. I've tried my best to avoid this.  
  
Frechiecangal: You know, that part with the guards wasn't in the original version of the fic. I added it in while editing the chapter for re- posting. I'm glad you liked it! ^_^ 


	23. Dark Brown Hair and Sad Gray Eyes

Disclaimer: Don't own crap, just writing this to bullshit with you for a while.  
  
Chapter 23 Dark Brown Hair and Sad Gray Eyes  
  
I feel peace seeping into my heart, slowly replacing the fear and doubt. Tasuki's hands help by roaming over my sides, feeling my ribs beneath the soft fabric of his undershirt, making my body calm to his fingers. He only suceeds in stiring the burning inside me. The way he touches me relaxes me and excites me at the same time. He seems to have memorized me.  
  
His lips move across my neck, over my throat, and down to my collarbone. And here he rests, trailing kisses along one side of the bone, then letting his lips hover in the dip between them before traveling up the other side. My fingers linger in his hair. I am fascinated by how soft and thick it is, yet again so different from the coarse and unruly hair of the men I have had before him. I comb through it gently, and I pull him harder to my body so that I can bury my face at his temple. He smells like rain, making it obvious that my scent has been rubbed from my skin and onto his. I breathe in slowly and exhale alluringly into his ear. I kiss his temple lightly, then kiss his earlobe. Just as always, he moans softly into my hair as a wave of shivers move over him. I hug him tightly to me, never wanting to let his body move even an inch from mine. Why can we not stay this way? His body protecting mine, my body loving his. Why must we be torn away so soon after finding each other? Why can the ways of the world never treat me fairly? Have I not suffered enough to please the gods? Do I not deserve happiness?  
  
I move my lips away from his temple and back to his lips. They part for me without hesitation, and I take advantage of them as if I would never kiss them again. Let me die. Let me die here and now so I won't be forced to be without him. I sigh deeply in sadness when I realize my words are mute to anyone but me.  
  
Suddenly, Tasuki is lifting my body. He sits up, resting on his knees, taking me with him and pressing me to his chest. Curious, my eyes wander over his. His mischevious grin spreads over his face and the muscles of my womanhood cramp in anticipation, starling me by their immediate and unexpected response. I no longer govern my body; he does. I smile and wrap my arms securely around his neck, pulling our faces close together. He presses his lips to mine almost forcefully, but not enough to hurt me. I am surprised, but patient. He has suddenly turned unpredictable.  
  
"Lift your arms," he whispers onto my lips, engulfing them with the heat of his delicious breath.  
  
I do as he commands me, exhilarated by his sudden brashness. Slowly, I raise my arms high over my head until they are stretched to their limit. I suddenly feel heat pressed above my parted knees and I gasp as it moves gently but firmly up until it lingers at the shirt hem resting on my thighs. A deep glance into Tasuki's gleaming eyes tells me that his hands are the source of the mysterious heat. He strokes the soft, sensitive skin with the outside of his fingers, teasing me, making my lust grow as he tantalizes the part of me I wish him to touch the most. Desperate to stop his teasing fingers, I try to lower my arms and take control; but he takes my wrists in his hands and raises them up again, holding them momentarily over my head, incapacitating me. Startled, my eyes question his. They are soft, yet his actions are strangely assertive. I am confused, but fascinated by his firmness in handling me. I can feel his fingers pressing into my palms, but he is still so gentle. I am exhilarated.  
  
When he lowers his hands again, I obey him and keep my arms suspended above me. He returns his hands to my thighs; but instead of torturing me with his soft touches, he wraps one arm around my lower back and slowly trails a hand upward inside the cotton shirt, up my thigh and between my legs. The presence of his fingers on my core causes a wave of pleasure to roll over my body unexpectantly. My breath rushes violently from my lungs and I lean into Tasuki's chest heavily. I understand why he secured me with an arm around my back.  
  
I clasp my fingers together above my head in excruciating ecstacy as his hand moves between my thighs, gently roaming over the center of me, causing noises to emenate from my throat that seem inhuman. I want to hold onto him, to brace myself. I understand now why he wants my hands restrained by my own will. He wishes to torture me, to make me long to hold him. He wants to see how far I can go.  
  
I am slowly becoming exhausted by being forced to keep my arms suspended while he builds the pleasuring friction between my legs, his glistening eyes revealing to me how much he enjoys my predicament. I moan, the sound coming from deep in my chest; and I bend my arms at the elbows, tangling my fingers in my wet hair. I must have something to hold on to. I fear I will go mad if I can't touch him soon. Desperate to be in contact more with him, I lean harder on his chest and rest my face in the valley of his neck. His arm tightens around the small of my back and his fingers quicken between my thighs. I bite my lips to keep from screaming. My hands tremble; my body trembles. I can feel his lips on my temple, on my ear; his breath is as heavy as mine. I can feel his fingers warming the inside of my thighs as well as the firmly caressing at my woman's core. No longer able to withstand the torture of not touching him, and feeling my peak approaching swiftly, I untangle my fingers from my hair and grasp him quickly, winding my arms around his neck and back before he can protest. But even when I am pressed wholy against him, he doesn't command me to lift my arms again. For this I am thankful. He kisses my neck, causing the building sensation to quicken and intensify between my legs, where his fingers still work deligently.  
  
I am on the brink, and I clutch him desperately as my climax is suddenly released upon my body in a massive wave. My fingernails sink unconsciously into the skin on Tasuki's shoulders, strangely heightening my pleasure as they burrow into him. The intensity ravages me like an uncontrollable storm, and I open my mouth to let out the presure that has built in my lungs. Slowly, the feeling lets my body go and I fall back to the earth--into Tasuki's gentle arms. They accept me and support my limp frame as my head leans against his shoulder. My eyes flutter and I glance at the pink marks imprinted on his shoulder, left behind by my fingernails. I run a fingertip over them and feel a soft pang of guilt, even if I did hurt him only slightly.  
  
"Sorry," I murmer into the soft skin of his shoulder, tracing the crescent moon-shaped marks.  
  
"It's okay," he answers, "It felt kinda good." His warm breath stirs my hair.  
  
I smile into his shoulder, knowing a smirk is on his face. My knees are weak from kneeling on the bed, and my whole body is drained from my orgasm. I realize that Tasuki is only the second man I've ever had to do this to me, to pleasure me with his own hands. The first was my favorite customer before Tasuki came along, a young farmer named Tadashi who always carried the smell of toil and labor on his sun-darkened skin. I had often let him have me when he couldn't pay; for young farmers are poor, but still need the attentions of a woman. I had not minded sleeping with him without pay; I truly enjoyed his company. I could have been happy marrying a man like him if I was a normal woman. He was a hard worker, he spoke softly, he loved carefully, and he was kind and carefree. So much like Tasuki, save for the soft speech at some times.  
  
I grin and blink my eyes, realizing my mind has wandered away from me. I feel Tasuki gently shake me, thinking I have fallen asleep. I sigh into his shoulder and turn my face to his.  
  
"Are you asleep?" he asks, amused.  
  
"No," I answer, smiling and kissing him softly.  
  
He lays back on the bed, stretching his long legs out. By the way he sighs, his legs are obviously as cramped as mine from our kneeling position on the bed. He pulls me on top of him, resting my face close to his, allowing me to recover before we continue our lovemaking.  
  
I lay quielty, my eyes wide and staring without really looking. My mind cannot process thoughts or images, so I meditate on myself and this man whose arms encircle me. I wonder what it will be like on the mountain. I have forgotten. I cannot remember the valley town I was born in or the dark shape of Mount Reikaku looming over it. I cannot remember my house or my father's tavern. But I do remember my mother's thick, dark brown hair and sad gray eyes, the hair and eyes that I inherited so generously. I remember my father's aged face, so much older than his true years; and the round, tanned faces of my sister and brothers. Sadly, I lost the destinctive accent of my birthplace not long after coming to the capital; perhaps this is why I long so fervently to hear the rich tones of Tasuki's voice. It is becasue I miss the true sound of my own.  
  
My eyes wander to his. They are closed lazily but not soundly, telling me he is only dozing and not deeply asleep. I trail a hand across the smooth, warm skin of his chest and let it linger over his heart. It beats strongly beneath my palm, letting me know his vitality is anchored in his soul, not just his body. He shifts beneath me, bringing his hand up to caress my hair, which is finally beginning to dry. He combs his fingers through it gently, starting at my hairline and working downwards, tugging lightly whenever he reaches a tangle. Soon, my hair is a straight, gleaming brown river flowing down my back. I smile my thanks to him and seal my lips to his. His chest muscles clench beneath my hand in response to my mouth, telling me that my simplest gesture has as much power over him as his have over me. He can no longer lie still with me. I can feel his desire flare, and it quickly refreshes my own.  
  
He lifts his body, taking hold of me as he rises into a sittisng position on the bed, me in his lap. My arms curl around him as he moves, but he takes my shoulders in his hands and pulls me away from him. I am confused by his actions until I feel his hands tugging on the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over my thighs and stomach. I grin, knowing what he wishes, and obediently lift my arms to the familiar position over my head as he tugs the shirt over my breasts and up my arms, and finally over my head. The shirt takes my hair with it as Tasuki pulls it off, then falls back down my back and over my shoulders in a heavy curtain. Once again I find myself naked before him, seated in his lap and waiting.  
  
He moves to cover me quickly, never giving my body a chance to get chilled. One of his arms snake around my waist and he falls into me, gently pushing me backwards onto the bed, his other arm supporting his weight. I fall lightly on my back, my hands resting on his naked shoulders, caressing the fingernail marks that still remain. His bare chest presses against my breasts, the friction between them keeping us both warm. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck, causing shivers to travel over my skin as his hair tickles my throat and ear. He kisses along the curve of my neck and across my throat, the wetness left behind by his lips warming me. I lift a hand from his shoulder and trail my fingers delicately along his jaw line and up to his ear, where I trace its curved shape and gently fondle the gleaming blue earring dangling from his earlobe. It shimmers for a moment every time it catches the soft light of the fire, framing Tasuki's face momentarily with a glow before fading again. I brush my thumbs across his eyebrows and over his eyelids.  
  
I could spend the entire night studying him with my hands. If I could learn the feel and shape of every part of him before he leaves in the morning, then would he really be gone? His body would be gone, but the remants of him touching my hands could keep him close for at least a while-- until he returns.  
  
He is gentle when he touches my face, aware of the bruises and cuts that still remain from Isamu's beating. I have not seen myself tonight, so I don't know if the black eye I recieved from Shingen is still there; and if it does remain, I am certain that it was worsened by Isamu. I wonder if I do look like I imagine. If in fact I do, Tasuki doesn't act like he notices; certainly his face would give it away. He gazes at me as if I were perfect, no marks from the hands of men blemishing my face. And strangely, if the remnants of my beating do remain, I am numb to them. Perhaps it is Tasuki's hands that heal them, or his eyes, or his words.  
  
He will save me. I know that if he can take away the pain of a beating with the warmth of his lips and the softness of his hands, he can save me from the place and the people that wish to end me.  
A/N: I know, I know!!! I'm making you wait, and I'm so sorry!!! *Iseult glances nervously at the people slowly surrounding her* Now, now, calm yourselves... the next chapter is coming soon! But what will happen?? Do you really need to ask?? ^_^  
  
Well, what about *ahem* after that? Will Tasuki really leave? Will he come back? Will Tansho be waiting for him? Will they run away together back to Mount Reikaku? Oh, so many decisions....I don't know if I can write anymore...maybe I should just let it end here. It's a good ending don't you think?  
  
*The crowd of people surrounding Iseult goes mad with rage and advances slowly upon the poor, defenseless author who is now really scared shitless* Don't worry, I won't do that to you again; it's too cruel to even talk about. I'm so so so sorry I even mentioned it!! Please forgive me!!  
  
*sniff sniff* Is that lemony smell getting stronger, or is it just my allergies? (Springtime in Georgia is a bitch, you know.)  
  
Oh, and thanks to all my reviewers who helped out on the time of the trip to Hokkan. I've actually already written the chapters that take place during Tasuki's absence. I was just wanting to know if your idea of the amount of time he was gone sorta kinda matched mine. ^_^ Thanks again!! 


	24. When Time Stops

Disclaimer: I don't own FY but I do own Tansho.  
  
Chapter 24 When Time Stops  
  
The burning red light of Tasuki's character illuminates the room, flooding us in a reddish tint. Never before has its glow been so powerful. I stare blindly at it, captivated. And its power over Tasuki is evident as well; he seems to be fueled by its brilliance. He ravishes my skin with his lips. His hands roam over my naked body, causing heat to explode and spread between us like fire.  
  
"Tasuki," I whisper, my eyes following the burning path of his character as it moves over the soft slopes of my shoulders and down my ribs. I cannot take my eyes off it. "Tasuki," I repeat, this time more desperately.  
  
He seems deaf to my words. His hands are caressing the curves of my waist, lingering where my hips begin. His face is between my breasts, kissing slowly along my sternum and down past the dip of my rib cage onto my stomach. His lips travel back up again. They hungrily yet slowly trace the curves of my breasts, the coolness of his soft hair brushing against my skin and quickly hardening my nipples. I groan when his lips make contact with them.  
  
"Tasuki!" I moan loudly, taking his face between my palms and forcing him to look at me. The shimmering of his eyes enchants me instantly. So beautiful. They are so beautiful. He lifts himself, breaking contact between his lips and my chest, and he crawls up my body until he hovers over my mouth, so close I can taste the warmth of his breath. His eyes wander over me, trying to discern my reason for stopping him.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asks, worry and lust mixed heavily in his words.  
  
"Let me touch you," I whisper, my eyes never leaving his.  
  
His eyebrows narrow in confusion. "But you are, Tansho," he answers.  
  
"No," I say, "Your mark. Let me touch your character." I take my hand from his cheek and point a finger delicately at the red light illuminating the skin on his forearm. His eyes follow my direction, and they instantly widen. Obviously, he had been unaware of its presence yet again.  
  
He returns his gaze to mine, and shifts his weight to his opposite arm so he can bring his right arm into my full view. He rests it next to my face, his fingers occupying themselves happily with my hair. I turn my head to the side to gaze at the mark embedded in his arm. The red character looks as if it was branded right into his skin. It burns deeply, seeming to ignite even his blood. I reach a hand out tentively and trace its delicate shape. I feel heat, but not too much to bear. It's like a burst of warm air, not like a hot stove or oil lamp. I turn my face further until my lips hover near it. I reach a hand beneath his arm and lift it gently to my lips, kissing the warmth of the mark as if it were Tasuki's lips. The heat seeps into my mouth like liquid, engulfing my insides and filling me to the brim. I exhale deeply and press my palms to Tasuki's face again, pulling his lips against mine. When I am sure they are sealed tightly to me, I let my hands wander down his chest and stomach until I reach the waist of his pants. My fingertips trace the waistband, gently scratching his skin to let him know of my presence here. A soft moan into my mouth tells me that I am acknowledged--and welcome.  
  
I slip my hand inside his trousers and graze him softly with my fingertips, barely making contact. As if suddenly brought to life, he grips my shoulders and inhales sharply, disconnecting our hungry mouths. I can feel soft spasms emanating from his entire body. My hand becomes more courageous, and I lightly grip him, invoking yet another set of soft convulsions to ravage his body. Obviously he is shocked that I am returning the intimate favor he so generously bestowed upon me. I could do other things to please him far more, but I decide to save those for another time.  
  
His eyes are hovering above mine, and his ecstasy shines through them as if they were glass. I can see him now. I can see everything. I know now that if I want to know his secrets, all I have to do is touch him where he holds his power. I grin alluringly and lift my head to brush my lips lightly over his, my hand awakening his pleasure gently as he did for me.  
  
I draw my hand slowly from his pants and settle it on his waistband. He looks as if he could cry, but I know he won't. He has too much pride to admit that he wishes my hand could return and finish what it so eagerly started.  
  
I hook my fingers in the waistband of his trousers and begin to slowly pull them over his hips, using my feet to work them down his legs. He kicks them to the floor where they tangle into a heap. In an instant, he lies naked on top of me.  
  
The heat of the fire in the hearth and the intense glow of the character on Tasuki's arm combine together to create warmth for our naked bodies. Sweat is already forming on my skin, and when I trail my palms over his shoulders and arms, I feel the slickness of his skin as well. He lowers his mouth to my ear and kisses me playfully, toying with me as I love to toy with him. He tries to hide his amusement when I giggle as he nips my earlobe with his fangs. My light giggles turn to deep moans as he traces the sharp line of my jaw with his kisses, leaving behind a trail of moisture to evaporate and leave me chilled.  
  
My legs are already parted for him, all he has to do move between them when neither of us can hold ourselves back anymore. I squeeze his hips with my thighs and drag my fingertips through his hair at the intensity of our union. It has been far too long since we were united. I relish the heat of his sigh in my ear, as if he was exhausted before entering me and now can finally rest. I run my hands down the valley in the middle of his arched back. The muscles on either side of the dip clench as he adjusts himself above me, ensuring that his arms take the weight of him rather than my body.  
  
We make love gently. We are more careful with each other than we have ever been before. To me this is quite odd; it seems we should be wild and carefree, since both of us know that we may never have a chance to do this again. But perhaps that is why he moves slowly inside of me, then rests, letting himself as well as me build furiously and gently. He wants it to last. For as long as possible, we need this to last. It may be the last piece we take from each other; it cannot afford to be wasted.  
  
And so I savor it. The labored sound of his breath in my ear with each gentle thrust, my own whimpers as he lingers within me, the wetness of his shoulder blades on my palms, the heat emanating from our skin and mouths, the maddening build of pleasure between my thighs. I savor it all as I've never thought to do it before. I pay the utmost attention to every sound he makes, fearing it may be the last I hear. I lock away every touch of his fingers in the vaults of my mind, fearing he might never touch me again.  
  
As our movements quicken and our voices heighten, my mind races faster and faster in its quest to learn everything about him. I must seal it away for no one to find. I must keep it safe.  
  
I feel him settle his face in the crevice of my neck, where he seems to find solace. I hear him breathe my scent in greedily. I uncurl my arms from around his shoulders and press my palms to his cheeks. Slowly, he obeys the pull of my hands and lifts his head slightly until I can turn my face and see directly into his eyes. Their burning is amazing. They seem to light up the air around us in a golden and emerald glow. I can almost feel the heat of their intensity on my face.  
  
"If you never come back," I whisper to him, "You will always be here."  
  
His eyes tell me that he knows what I am saying to him, though his heart will have to linger on my words for many days before realizing their full meaning. I realize that even I don't truly understand my own words. But my heart must know, or else it wouldn't have come alive so robustly in my words. And at least his eyes know; I trust them to relay my message to his heart. It is better if we do not understand right away. It is far better this way, or else we would die from the weight of the grief on our souls.  
  
Even though both of us are near our peak and want desperately to increase the intensity of our movements, we force our bodies to keep the slow and tranquil pace that undeniable heightens our sensations. We are forced to feel everything we do, we are not allowed to overlook anything. And this is what makes us feel like we will go insane--and what makes us feel at peace. It is delicate and luxurious. Serene and invigorating.  
  
For a moment, I think my heart has stopped. I think I have died. All movement around Tasuki and I seems to stop as we caress each other in our final moments. The world stops for us as our lovemaking draws to an end. I cannot see the flickering glow of the fire in the hearth. It looks like red glass.  
  
When his eyelids flutter at the oncoming of his release, the motion around us slowly begins again. And when he cries out into my hair, finally letting himself flow inside of me, I smile and turn my face to the side to press my cheek to his. Suddenly, I see the flames in the hearth flicker again; I see the shadow of a tree outside move across the wall. And my body is instantly flooded with the sensation that has been building between my legs for so long. I reach my hands out desperately and grasp Tasuki to me, holding onto him as my body trembles slightly, spurred by the releasing between me legs. His arms hold me in the same desperation as the last of him is emptied.  
  
When our bodies have calmed and our hearts have slowed, my eyes roam the room, fascinated by what I just witnessed. What did I see? What happened? It was as if the world ended and began again, governed only by the motions of mine and Tasuki's bodies. Is that possible? Is that what I witnessed?  
  
"Tasuki," I whisper carefully, almost afraid that whatever happened in the room will somehow hear me and become angry. Or that the sounds of my voice will dissipate whatever was present here. He is too drained to even acknowledge my voice. I turn my face from the room and nudge his cheek gently with mine. When he still does not react to me, my lips cover his earlobe. Instantly, he seems to awaken and his eyes meet mine.  
  
"Tasuki," I repeat, "Did you see it?"  
  
He blinks several times and brings a hand up to rest on my cheek. He caresses me softly, still so gentle with me, still so afraid that even the slightest touch will harm me in some way. "See what?" he asks.  
  
I turn my face back to the room. I survey the fire in the hearth, the table in the corner, the chair on which his overcoat and my gown are draped, the bare walls. Everything seems to be back to life, back to normal. There is no trace of what I saw. But what did I see? A halt in time. That is what it seemed to be. Is it possible that time really did stop for us, to allow the last moment of our pleasure feel as if it were the only thing happening in the world? How generous of the gods if that really is what happened. How kind. How unbelievably unselfish. But why on earth did they choose this moment to give me a piece of comfort? What have I done to suddenly deserve such a great gift?  
  
"What are you talking about, Tansho?" he whispers, the accent of his voice heavier due to his exhaustion.  
  
Then I realize that what I saw was in fact a gift from the gods. A solace for me and my worried soul. They stopped the world for us. To let us be the only things feeling love and passion and hope--they stopped time. Or at least that's what my tortured mind wishes to believe.  
  
I kiss Tasuki softly. He seems confused by my unusual behavior. I know he thinks I'm speaking only nonsense. But maybe it's better if he thinks that. He'd never believe me anyway. To believe that time was stopped momentarily for you is to believe that one day it will stop permanently for you. It is a dangerous thought only to be known by the unafraid. I do not want him to be victim to fear at this moment. I love him too much. I am too much a part of him to force something like this upon him.  
  
"Nothing," I say. I don't really think of it as a lie even if it is. And it's not protection for him. It's just a word. An unimportant word.  
  
So I let him lie still, his head resting in the valley of my neck where he feels at home. He is brave enough to know it, but there is no reason to reveal such a thing to him now. So I let him love me with his lips and his hands; and I love him in return, knowing it may be the last time.  
A/N: Oh how sad!! *sniff* Poor Tansho, so depressed...I hope I can cheer her up soon. Hope you all liked my lovely lemon; it was a long time in the making (nearly a freakin' week!) I just couldn't get everything right, so I just said "screw it" (literally ^_^) and wrote the first thing that came to my mind. And here is the result!  
  
So what will happen after their last night? Is there a possibility that she will go with Tasuki? Or will she wait for him to come back? Will he come back? Will she be here when and if he does? Aaaaahhhh, so many questions!!! ^_^ Please review!!  
  
P.S. I'm not exactly sure which chapter was the last to be posted before FF booted me off the site. Could those of you who've been following this from its original beginning tell me which chapter was the last? I think I'm getting close, but I'm not sure. Just wondering!! Thanks a bunch!! 


	25. On the Mountain

Disclaimer: Well as you know, I don't own FY. But what you don't know is what I'd do if I did own it!! Make millions of dollars off the anime, manga, artbooks, CDs, and merchandise....that's what!!! ^_^  
  
Chapter 25 On the Mountain  
  
We refuse to give in to the exhaustion that weighs upon our eyes and minds, tempting us with visions of the dreams we could be having. We refuse to sleep, to close ourselves off from each other. We force our eyes to remain open by looking at each other and by speaking to each other in unheard tones, making us want more, making us want to stay awake.  
  
Tasuki kisses the curve of my neck and slides an arms under my back, lifting me slightly from the linens. He rolls over onto his back, taking my tired body with him, and settles me on top of his chest. I curl myself up on top of him, my knees bent and pressed to his rib cage, my head tucked beneath his chin, my hands splayed over his chest. His arms wrap securely around the curve of my back, his hands pressing to my shoulder blades. He keeps me close to him, sealed to him.  
  
"Why did you come to the palace looking for me?" he asks, suddenly breaking the deep silence of the room. I lift my head to find his eyes glowing faintly at me.  
  
He knows that I followed after him because I love him; what else is there to this question?  
  
"Because I love you," I answer truthfully, confused.  
  
"I know that, Tansho," he says, smiling, "But I know you're stubborn. Something got to you, made you realize the mistake you made."  
  
I smile at him cuningly. My fingers lace themselves together and press palm-down on his chest. I rest my chin on the pillow they create for me. "You think I would have made a mistake if I hadn't come after you?" I ask.  
  
His lop-sided smile fades and he looks deep into me, his otherworldly eyes touching my deepest part with a single glance. "I made a mistake by not staying," he tells me, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Oh, dear gods...no. No, not this, not this horrid emotion. This goddamned emotion that wounds and scars and kills mercilessly. Guilt. He feels guilt. He is trying his hardest to conceal it; but his eyes penetrate me too deeply, revealing all of him to me. He feels guilt for walking away from me. But he shouldn't; he can't. Not now, after it all is over and done with.  
  
"No," I say, my voice pleading, "No, you didn't. I told you to go and you went...that is all." He averts his eyes from me. They are poisoned. They have been poisoned,-- his eyes, his soul, his heart--all poisoned by damned guilt. "Tasuki!" I say firmly, taking his face in my palms and making him look at me. He cannot crumble on me now. Not now. "If you had not left me, I could not have followed after you."  
  
I don't have to force his eyes to meet mine. They gravitate toward me with or without the consent of his consciousness. He removes my fingers gently from his face and kisses them. "No, you couldn't have...could you?" he says. But it seems more like he is telling himself, reassuring himself instead of me. He kisses my fingertips again and again, making them burn and tingle under his lips.  
  
"I followed after you because of something Asako said to me," I continue, "She told me that once I love a man, I would never be able to do anything else." I pause, seeing the older woman's face for a moment. "I realized that what she told me was true...and I got up and I ran." That is all; that is the truth.  
  
His eyes drain the poison and look at me in amazement. I can tell he feels honored and flattered by what I just said; and I feel the skin on my cheeks fill with blood. Gods, he made me blush. "Really?" he asks, like a child who needs reassurance that the world is round.  
  
I smile sweetly; like a lady, like a little girl, like a lover. "Really," I answer.  
  
I will the guilt to dissipate within his chest; and I force it away from him, feeling it scatter across the room and seep out through the walls. It is strange how my soul is so aware of previously unseen and unknown things now, as if Tasuki's presence opened my eyes and ears to the otherworld, to the supernatural. I can sense, hear, and see more clearly than ever before. Perhaps it is because I love a man whose name is written in the sky; or perhaps it is because love in itself is a medium for the paranormal. But I know it is wise not to question these things, so I move my mind elsewhere. I focus on what awaits me when I leave this place, this city of beauty and rot, mixed together in a deadly potion of corruptness. Back to the place I was born--the mountain.  
  
The mountain. I have forgotten so much of my life before this place, this city, the tavern, the brothel. Did I even have a life? My father could not support us. My mother labored in her dress shop day in and day out, then died bringing my brother into the world. My father gave his eldest daughter to a tavern master to pay off a debt, knowing what would become of her, knowing what she would become. Was that a life? Is this a life? Dear gods. What has my existence been about? The death of your beloved mother. The betrayal of your father. The pain of being forced into womanhood while still a child. The humiliation of being told that your body is the only thing of worth you possess. Not your mind, not your soul, not your heart-not the things that will die one day and fade away into nothingness. The humiliation of being told that your only talent is pleasing men with your body and your cunning words. Your body-- the thing the world sees, wants, pays you for, and fucks. The thing that will wither and rot away inevitably. It didn't take me long to figure out that the world only cares for the tangible. It has no need for the spiritual. What it can't see or touch, it believes doesn't exist. How sad. How hopeless. How pitiful. For me. And for those who believe otherwise.  
  
At least Tasuki knows I love him. At least I have told him one last time. I could die now. I really wouldn't mind. It would be better, after all, if Tasuki didn't have me to distract him, to draw his attention away from his duty as a warrior of the priestess. If I could get away from my goddamned life. If I could start over. If only all of it could start over. Me--clean and new. A life unused, like a gown or a pair of newly- made slippers, ready for an owner. How perfect. I could choose a new name, pick a new place to live, build my life around my heart and my soul and my mind. Not my body. My body would be the last thing I'd worry about. Hell, I'd be happy to be a man! An ugly, old man consumed with a beautiful soul and filled to the brim with laughter and peace. As long as I had those things, I could live as anything.  
  
I smile involuntarily. Tasuki sees and looks at me in amusement. I will never be able to rid myself of his eyes and his hair. Both are so unnatural, so unearthly, so beautiful. If only I could start over again with him. I could spend the whole of my life simply touching him and I would be happy. Dear gods, if only. If only. If only..  
  
Then I realize what I was too stupid to let into my mind beforehand. I think to myself, you fool of a girl. Always so damn melodramatic! You never slow down and acutally think about what you're thinking! Start over with Tasuki? Do you not realize that that is what you'll do upon his return? You'll leave with him and go back to the mountain with him. You'll start your life over--with him. Fool. Think for once in your goddamn life!  
  
Suddenly, I begin to laugh. It's a loud, deep laugh from the pit of my belly, sprouting from my throat like a fountain. I'll get to start over. No death. No hurt. Just leaving and beginning again. So fucking easy. I laugh and bury my face in Tasuki's chest, sucking his scent deep into my lungs every time I inhale. I make myself drunk off his smell. I intoxicate my body with him. I feel insane. I feel as if my mind has drifted away. And all I can do is laugh like a lunatic.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asks, confusion and amusement mixed in his voice.  
  
"I...it's...," I am so happy that I can't form a sentence, much less explain my revelation to him. My hope. Hope. Something that I have missed, something that I now treasure with all my being. I won't ever let this go, this feeling, this way of being. It's too perfect, too rare, too unimaginably beautiful.  
  
So I kiss him, hoping that maybe my thoughts will leak from my mouth to his, and then into his heart. Save me, I tell him. Save me and be the one who's with me when I begin again.  
  
"The mountain," I whisper into his open mouth, "Tell me about the mountain. It's been so long since I've seen it." I open my eyes to see him looking intently at me, pausing, cautious of me. He is hesitant to help my memories resurface. But I lean forward and press my cheek to his, feeling him instantly envelope me with his arms. Tell me, my mind begs.  
  
I hear his lungs expand behind his ribs. They breathe deep, giving him strength to say the things he needs to tell me.  
  
"Please tell me," I ask again, "I want to remember. So that when I see it again, I won't be afraid."  
  
His eyes tell me no. No, I won't do it. I won't tear open a scab and cause the scar to be deeper, darker, and uglier once it heals again. But his dark green eyes blink, knowing how much I want to hear him speak to me, to tell me. He knows that I need to remember. I know that he knows.  
  
"At night, it looks like a demon from far away," he begins slowly and gently; his deep voice is trying to be strong and unmoved for me. "It's so dark, it almost looks evil. And the crickets and cicadas make so much damn noise you wanna burn the whole mountain to ashes just to shut them up."  
  
I feel my lungs expel a sigh of relief when his demeanor returns to where it should be. Nonchalant. Boisterous. Sarcastic. Happy. These are the things that made me love him. These are the things I want to remember about him if he never returns to me.  
  
"But during the daytime, it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen," he says. I watch in fascination as his eyes stare far away, over my shoulder, through the wall of the room, and over the roads of Konan. To his mountain. His home. My home. He really can see it, I realize as I watch the gold in his eyes gleam like the sun. He can see the mountain. "It's mostly forest. So green and thick you need a sword to clear a path. And if you come back to that path a week later, it won't be there. It's alive, ya know. Sometimes if you just shut your mouth and listen, you can hear the damn thing breathing." He pauses again, but only for a moment. He soon resumes talking, every word soaked with longing. "And the smell. Hell, you can't ever get sick on a mountain. It's too clean, too undisturbed. Everything smells like trees and flowers. Everything seems too perfect, like it's Heaven or something. And when you're not there, you know you need to get back there as fast as you can."  
  
His eyes blink again, and he glances at me, almost nervously. I only stare. My eyes cannot focus. They can see what he saw. The mountain, in front of me, calling to me like a mother calling for her lost child. I clench Tasuki's shoulders in longing. I'd do anything to get back there, to that place where everything is as it should be. And I hold back tears knowing that Tasuki will be the one to take me back. To take me home.  
  
"Do you remember now?" he asks, taking my shoulders in his hands and pulling my shaking body down on top of his. He holds me to him so close that I can feel his blood flowing through his veins. I can feel his soul stirring inside of him, longing to be back on the mountain.  
  
"Yes," I answer, "I remember."  
A/N: Well, a somewhat happy chapter with just a touch of mushiness to make it sweet. ^_^  
  
Hmmm, it looks like Tansho is pretty sure that she'll be going home with Tasuki once his mission is over. Will she? Or will Tasuki die and leave her all alone again? Or will she die and have him come back to nothing? *Iseult listens for the soft sound of approacing feet behind her, knowing a crazed assasin fan is coming to do her in.* Keep away, I warn you! Or else... I'll kill 'em both!!! Just kidding!! I know I know, I kid WAY too much. I'll stop.soon.maybe.  
  
Big fat P.S.: I'm retaking the ACTs this Saturday, and the resulting score on the math section will determine whether or not I get into the college I want to attend next fall. So please, if you have any religion at all.pray for me!!! Thanks so much!! ^_^ 


	26. Run Away

Disclaimer: Yep, well, I don't own FY. Bet you knew that, huh?  
  
Chapter 26 Run Away  
  
At some time in the night, we close our eyes and sleep. Neither of us want to. We want to stay awake and look at each other, talk to each other, love each other. But we sleep, wrapped together so tightly our breathing matches.  
  
I wake up just past dawn. A beam of the sun assaults my face, stirring me from my sleep. When my eyes focus, I see him lying next to me. His mouth is open wide, his deep snoring echoing in the room. It's a startling sound, hard on the nerves and the mind; but it doesn't bother me the least bit. As I listen to him more closely, I find that I somewhat enjoy it. It is him in his most vulnerable, truest form, and I adore it.  
  
His beauty is ravishing to me. Maybe it's because it is the morning, and the beauty of all things is obvious in the light of the morning. Maybe it's because my heart knows I may never see him like this again. But I refuse to ponder the reasons for him being so lovely to me; instead, I just look at him.  
  
Everything about him makes me happy, releases that emotion in my veins that makes me feel weightless and undeniably satisfied. I lie still for a moment, my face close to his, just watching. I close my eyes and mold myself to him, resting my cheek against his collarbone. I force myself not to think of where he will be before the day is over. Of where I will be.  
  
I sit up and lean over him slightly. My hand reaches out to his face, and my fingertips graze gently over his features. I trace the shape of his nose, running my finger over the prominent arch and down the sides. When I reach his lips, his gaping mouth closes and he turns his face toward me, nudging my fingertips. Smiling, I trace over the skin bordering his lips, feeling the tightness transform into smoothness. A fang protrudes from his mouth to bite down on his lower lip, chewing silently before retreating back into his mouth. I cup his cheek with my palm and run my thumb over his lips, pressing gently to feel their softness and moisture. His face moves further into my hand, recognizing my touch.  
  
Even in his sleep, he craves me as I crave him. I am touched by this simple subconscious action. Almost saddened.  
  
I begin to doubt myself and my ability to watch him leave me. Only a few hours remain, after all, before he and the others begin their journey to Hokkan. I truly don't know if I will be able to stand still and silent, watching him go. But what can I do? How can I avoid the pain that I will inevitably feel, knowing he's not anywhere near me any longer? Can the things I stored in my heart the night before really supliment my need to be near him, to speak to him, to touch him?  
  
I pull my hand away from his face, almost terrified of him and the power he holds over me. I feel myself loosing control. I feel my mind fleeing, refusing to deal with the panic beginning to flood my veins. I have to leave. Before he wakes up, I have to get away from here, away from him. I cannot watch him leave me. I cannot hear him tell me goodbye.  
  
I force myself not to become frantic. I force my heart to keep a slow, steady pace in order to keep my blood calm. I manage to keep calm somehow and carefully peel myself away from him, slowly unwinding his arm from around my back. I am sorry to move away from him. I feel hollow when I am no longer touching him. Still, I force my body to go, to slip off the bed and walk quietly across the floor to the hearth. I take my gown from the back of the chair and squeeze it firmly to check for dampness. Satisfied that it is dry, I slip it over my shoulders and tuck the sides around my waist and hips, securing it tightly with my sash.  
  
I rake my fingers through my hair, pulling the tangles out as best as I can without a comb. And then I wonder why I am doing it. No one will see me. No one will care what I look like. Momentarily dazed, I lower my hands to my sides and stand motionless, just staring into nothingness. The emptiness of my body is so overwhelming I fear I will begin to crack under the weight of myself. With nothing inside to support me, what is left besides a hollow shell?  
  
I turn around and face the sleeping man lying carelessly on the bed. His arms and legs are splayed and entangled in the linens. One of his hands unconsciously caresses the vacant space beside him, and I realize that he thinks I am there. My heart compresses within my chest, sending a jolt of pain along my nerves, affecting my entire body. I am tempted to give up my plan of escape and return to him. To feel the warmth of him, to listen to the sound of his breathing, to watch his face as he sleeps on, oblivious to me. I take an uncertain step toward him. I expect him to whisper my name as the hero always does in the love stories, calling his lady back to him, stopping her from running away. But he doesn't. He sleeps quietly, his snoring softened to a heavy breathing.  
  
I am so tempted to touch him again, just once more before I run. But I know that if I do, I won't be able to let him go. Oh dear gods, how did it ever get this far? So far that I have to flee from love just so my heart won't crumble.  
  
I curse myself in my mind, and I curse Tasuki. I am angry wtih myself for everything that I have dared to do in the last few weeks--fall in love, act on that love, defy everything for the sake of that love, and now, allow it to leave. And I am angry with Tasuki because he is the one that began it all. I saw his fire red hair when I looked down from the balcony that night, and so began the descent.  
  
I can't change what happened, and I don't have a desire to. I am angry with myself for falling prey to the one thing that could destroy me and save me, but I also feel honored to be the fortunate victim of such a thing.  
  
I smile faintly. I can't touch him. It is better this way. I walk to the chair where Tasuki's black coat is draped. I press my fingers to the fabric and caress it, feeling that it has dried in the night from the heat of the fire. He is so present in this garment. Everything that represents him seems to be here, under my fingers. His courage, his power, his wit, his humor, his beauty, his love. I can feel all of him. How I will miss him when he is gone. I smile again, even more faintly but with a hint of defiance. How I will treasure him more when he returns.  
  
Before my fragile mind allows my body to betray me, I grasp my fingers to my chest and walk briskly and quietly to the door. But somehow, somehow by the grace of the gods who seem to have finally noticed my presence on the earth, he hears. He still hears me, even when I can barely hear my own feet touch the carpet. He hears, and I can feel his eyes on me.  
  
"Tansho," he says, his voice showing no indication that he was asleep only a few moments ago. Did he feel me move away from him and get dressed? Did he listen to me all this time and pretend to be asleep? I don't know whether to thank him or curse him for deceiving me.  
  
I stop, but don't turn. Please don't make me look at you, I pray to him. I refuse to lower my head. To do so means that I'm ashamed of myself and the selfish act I was about to commit. So what?! I, of all people, deserve to be selfish. After the hell that I call my life, I deserve it. Why can't I just do this one thing for myself? I must do it. He doesn't understand.  
  
"Tansho," he repeats. My name on his tongue has that sorrowful tone, like a father disappointed with his child for misbehaving. "Why, Tansho?"  
  
I knew he would ask me that. Why? Why would you want to run away? Leave me to face my journey alone? Never even let me kiss you or tell you goodbye. He doesn't know. He doesn't know what that simple word would do to my mind, what that last kiss would break inside of me. Both of them combined, that word and that kiss, would take hold of me like a giant hand and slowly crush me until my lungs collapse and my heart is nothing but a red smudge in the center of me. I would be left an invalid; I would be a deformed, mangled monstrosity that would cause people to turn their faces in pity and hold back the bile in their throat. I would become like the lepers outside the city gates, moaning as the rot ate my body away slowly.  
  
I almost cry knowing that he could do that to me. His words. He would never intend to, of course. He would never purposefully do such a thing as that to me. It would be just a horrible accident, mostly the fault of the one whose soul is so sad and full of nothingness that she can't control herself or the things that happen to her. But why? Why can't his love heal me instead of slowly tearing into me, ripping me, breaking me? Why must I always feel pain with him along with pleasure? Is that truly love?  
  
"Tansho", I hear my name again. He has mastered my name. He knows just how to say it to make the burning in my womanhood ignite, to make the erotic cramping in my stomach grow, to make the feeling of euphoria in my brain expand. He knows all of me; no wonder one word or action from him could cause my destruction.  
  
I hear him get out of bed and stumble for a moment to pull his trousers on. And I smile in spite of myself and my pain, giving me at least one comfort in this torture. I hear him approach me, feel his hands on my shoulders, feel the tension in his muscles as he turns me to face him, hear the beating of his worried heart, see the tousled fire of his hair. See his eyes. For once I do not feel intimidated or possessed by them. I see purity and wholeness. Worry. Confusion. Wonder. Love. His eyes see me trying to leave him; no wonder they are overflowing. And then I feel the shame. Like a goddamned flood that I should have known would come sooner or later, it just bashes into me again and again, no shelter, no protection. I just stand and let it pound into me, waiting patiently for it to end.  
  
And when it does end, he is there. Waiting. He always waits for me. Always. He has yet to leave before taking me into him, comforting me, loving me, telling me all that I am to him, all that I am to myself, all that I am to the world. And I wonder why on earth I would ever want to hurt him.  
  
His arms are already open, holding onto my shoulders, knowing that I am coming to him sooner or later. So I do. I lean hard into him, burying myself in the nakedness of his chest and the scent of his body. Letting myself sink. Disappear. Vanish.  
  
"Why would you want to leave, Tansho?" he asks, breathing into my hair, calming my anxious heart, soothing my burning nerves. "Why wouldn't you want to stay just a little longer?"  
  
I ponder that. My true reason? I don't want to fall apart. I don't want to howl like the lepers. I don't want to become a monster. No. He doesn't understand the abnormalities of my mind. He wouldn't be able to understand. So I search for the truth in words that he can understand. I breathe deep when I find them, for they tell all in so little. Thank the gods for that.  
  
"Because I can't hear you say goodbye to me," I answer, my breath hitting his chest and returning to warm my face. Yes. That's the truth that he can understand. Maybe one day he will learn the language I speak in my mind and the world that I have created there for myself and my hurting being. Maybe one day he can penetrate it, draw me out of that dark world, draw me next to him, draw me into the light. Save me. But for now, I suppose I am content knowing that he finally understands at least a portion of me.  
I know, I know, I KNOW!!!! Happy chapter, depressing chapter, happy chapter, depressing chapter!! *Iseult, make up your damn, demented mind!* ^_^ Well, yes, 'tis true--I'm as fickle as they come. So sue me *umm, no, please don't ^_^* I am very sorry for the angst and cliffhanger *bows in apology* I will make up for it somehow, I promise!!  
  
Ok, so I've had a few people tell me which chapter was the last posted on FF before they deleted my account a few months ago. One told me it was a couple of chapters back, but another told me it's the next chapter after this one. Well, either way, a brand spankin' new chapter of "Tansho", the Fushigi Yuugi romance epic by yours truly will be making an appearance very very soon!! Yay!!  
  
Thanks for the reviews!!! 


	27. Plead

Disclaimer: Blah, Blah, Blah...I don't own FY or the characters...but I own my OC, OK? ^_^  
  
Chapter 27 Plead  
  
"I can't hear you tell me goodbye," I repeat. I know he heard me the first time, but I have to tell him again. I curl my arms under his and press my palms to the thick muscles that line his backbone. They clench under my hands when he tightens his hold on me.  
  
"I won't tell you goodbye, Tansho," he says, lowering his face close to my ear so he can whisper, "If you don't want me to, I won't." I try to resist the urge to look at him. I have no idea why, though. At first I think I am afraid that if I look at him, the power of his eyes will trap me. Trap me and hold me forever.  
  
Fuck it, my mind whispers to me.  
  
So I lift my chin and aim my eyes at his, instantly being engulfed by the green darkness etched so oddly with a golden sheen. There is no use to fighting anymore. He has me. I couldn't leave even if my life depended on it. Yes, I will stay with him until the end. I will watch him leave me, but I won't hear him tell me goodbye. That makes a world of difference to me. As long as he doesn't tell me goodbye, it means that he is still partially here somehow. Somehow.  
  
His lips connect with my forehead gently, making me close my eyes at their softness. He hugs me close to him for a moment, then releases me and walks briskly to the door.  
  
"Are you hungry?" he asks, opening the door and leaning out a bit onto the wooden veranda.  
  
I nod slowly, suddenly aware of the sickly empty feeling in my stomach.  
  
He smiles and leans further out the door, his eyes searching for something or someone.  
  
"Hey there, miss!" he calls out loudly, apparently to a servant girl, "Could you have some food brought here?" He pauses for a moment, then shouts an enthusiastic "Thank you!" before coming back into the room. I frown at his rudeness in hollering at the girl, but realize that the poor servants of the palace are probably used to his jovial obnoxiousness.  
  
"It'll be here in a minute," he says, "Let me get my clothes off the chair so you can sit by the fire." He walks past me, deliberately brushing my side lightly with his hand to tease me. I can sense his sadness with his touch. He knows what I know. He's leaving soon. Too soon.  
  
He grabs his undershirt from the back of the chair and snaps it against the air, as a laundry maid would do to a linen. He then drapes it over his forearm and smoothes the soft material with his palm, trying his best to get the wrinkles out. When satisfied, he pulls the shirt over his head, ruffling his already disheveled hair in the process. He throws his heavy black overcoat on the bed, deciding the room is too warm to wear it.  
  
He takes the back of the chair and positions it closer to the table, but makes sure the warmth of the fire can still reach it. All the while he is doing these things, I am watching him silently. I think of how horribly I will miss him and how much he will miss me. I wonder what kind of adventures he will have on his journey-- if he will have to fight, if he will be hurt. I force my mind to stop there; I can't go any farther. I'm too afraid that if I even think it, it will happen.  
  
"Tansho?" his voice breaks me away from my reverie, and I see him holding the back of the chair like a gentleman waiting for his lady to take a seat. I smile and walk towards him, charmed by his obvious attempt at simple chivalry. I sit and feel his fingertips graze my shoulders. My soul surges within me and before I can stop myself, I suddenly grab his hands and press them to my face. The heels of his palms press gently into my jawbone, and his fingertips graze the edges of my lips. I hold the backs of his hands with mine, cradling myself with his palms. I force myself to keep my emotions in check, to keep from exploding into a torrent of tears and moans. Gods, I can't even let him touch me with his fingertips without feeling utter hopelessness. What in hell will I do when he is gone? When he is nowhere near me-how will I be able to stand it?  
  
I am so afraid to let him go. I don't want to. He gently pulls his hands from my grasp and encircles me with his arms, resting my head in the warm valley formed by his neck and shoulder. He can feel my despair, and I can feel his anxiety. My ear is so close to his neck that I can hear his blood pulsing through his veins. We stay the way we are for a long time. Me sitting with my spine pressed hard against the back of the chair, wanting to be as close as possible to him; him leaning over my shoulder, holding on to me as if he were anchoring me, keeping me from floating away.  
  
"I don't want to leave you here," he suddenly whispers into my ear.  
  
I turn my head slightly to get a glimpse of his eyes. They are closed, and his eyelids work vigorously to stay shut. I wonder why he is afraid to look at me. Perhaps an ocean of tears is being held back and he doesn't want to drown me in them.  
  
"Let me arrange for you to be kept here in the palace," he tells me. " Or I can send for some of the guys back on the mountain to come and escort you back there. You can wait there until I get back from Hokkan. You'll be safe there. They'll take care of you." He talks too fast, too urgently, too nervously. I curl my arms around his, pressing them tighter to my chest. He holds me so desperately.  
  
"No, Tasuki," I say sadly. He has forgotten what I told him the night before. "You forget that Shingen has the right to search for me, and if he finds me, he has the right to punish me as he sees fit. Even your bandits cannot escape the law and rights of slave owners and their properties." I pause, suddenly realizing something else, something that makes my heart clench in my chest. "Maybe they could protect me like you say, but Shingen has an advantage over me--the other women in the tavern. He knows I care for them. He has leverage over me; he could threaten them in order to force me to return to the tavern if I try to leave."  
  
I can feel his anger seeping though his chest and into the thin material of my gown, almost burning my skin with its intensity. I tense at first, wondering if he is angry with me for finding fault in his plan even if it was devised out of love and the desire to protect me.  
  
"Please, Tasuki, I..."  
  
"Damn that bastard...damn him to hell," he whispers through clenched teeth. "Damn him and his fucking tavern." His whole body tenses, but mine relaxes. He isn't mad at me, thank the gods. He is far from it. His anger is directed at Shingen; it always has been. I'm a fool for not knowing this all along.  
  
His grip tightens on me almost painfully, making me gasp in surprise. He lets go of me abruptly, knowing that his control is seeping away too swiftly, knowing that he cannot have contact with anything or anyone--especially me, who he fears of hurting more than anything. I feel air blow on my cheek as he turns from me and toward the fire. I hear him begin to pace, every emotion ravishing his insides unmistakenly evident in every step he takes.  
  
I can hear his anguish and his heartache for me, because of the fact that in a matter of hours we will be apart. I can hear his anger and his hatred for Shingen, for the tavern, the place that he knows owns me. I can hear his love, ringing above all the others like the voice of a god, bringing me relief. I find it amazing that I can sense such things from him. Things that maybe even he can't contemplate.  
  
"Please don't worry for me," I say, not turning to look at him. I know he's listening to me. "Focus on your mission...your destiny. Shingen has hurt me in all ways imaginable for half a decade. He hasn't killed me yet, and I know he won't. He's afraid to. He knows how valuable I am. And I think he knows about you as well-who you are." I know I take a chance by speaking. I can feel energy radiating from Tasuki even though he is far from me, and I know his anger makes up a large portion of that energy. I don't know what he could do. He wouldn't do anything to me. I trust him. I know him. But I cannot speak for others who might happen to cross his path any time soon.  
  
My breath catches in my throat when I hear a knock on the door. Nervously, I glance over my shoulder, only to see him still pacing. I get up from the chair, my eyes never leaving Tasuki's pacing form. My bare feet skid uncertainly to the door, and I peek out to see the curious and innocent eyes of a young maidservant. I want to tell her to leave and not come back, that the entire palace may be engulfed with fire by noon; but I only smile and open the door wider.  
  
"Oh, excuse me, Ma'am," she replies, covering her mouth with her fingertips, "I have the wrong room. I was looked for Master Tasuki." She bows and turns to leave, balancing an obviously heavy tray on her palms. I realize that it's the breakfast Tasuki ordered for us and quickly stop the girl.  
  
"No," I say hastily, "This is Master Tasuki's room." She turns, her eyes instantly showing her shock even though I'm sure she intended to hide it. No doubt Tasuki would not have had many lady visitors before me, seeing as he is still known in the palace as being a notorious misogynist. The poor girl seems a bit nervous, so I reach my hands out and take the tray from her.  
  
"Thank you," I say kindly, smiling. She stutters for a moment, wondering if she should protest, but I retreat back into the room and shut the door before she has a chance to say anything. I can only pray that she doesn't go squalling to a guard that a strange woman is staying in the room of one of the warriors of Suzaku.  
  
I nudge the door closed with a swing of my hip before returning to the table. Tasuki has stopped pacing and is looking at me. I set the tray down on the table slowly, my eyes on his, wondering what he is thinking.  
  
"Breakfast is here," I say cheerfully, hoping he will calm down and sit with me long enough to regain his sanity. I look down, then look up at him again through my eyelashes, knowing how foolish I may appear. But I do it because I know I have an affect on him. I watch in satisfaction as his eyes soften and his body relaxes. "Don't you want to sit with me?" I ask softly, inclining my head toward the chair across from me, farthest from the fire.  
  
Without a word, he obeys my request and sits. I pour him a cup of tea and reach my hand across the table, motioning for him to take it. His fingers wrap around mine, but when he tries to take the cup from my grasp, I hold tight. My simple action forces his eyes to rise and meet mine. I grip the cup tighter and look softly at him.  
  
"Please don't be so angry--don't be so sad," I whisper to him, barely able to hear even myself. I want to tell him to stop being so goddamned selfish and uncaring as to what his emotions and actions are doing to me-- even if they are fueled by his love for me. His pride is all that it boils down to. He and I both know it. He hates the fact that he cannot do what he so desperately wants to do for me. He hates the fact that he is helpless for once in his life. He hates the fact that he fell in love with me and I with him. He hates the fact that he is leaving in a matter of hours, not knowing if I will be dead before he returns--or if he will die before even getting the chance to return. He hates not knowing if he will be able to save me when it is all over.  
  
By the touch of his fingers on mine, and by the burning in his eyes, I can see all of this as clearly as my own reflection in a mirror. For the first time in my life, I am able to communicate with a person without the use of my mouth or even my ears. And this is what I receive from him: despair and hate and anger and love. So many emotions that have no business being anywhere near each other. And yet here they are, electrocuting me through contact with Tasuki's skin, penetrating me. Everything inside of his spirit shooting through me, ripping me and tearing me mercilessly as they rip and tear him in the same way. And all I can do is plead with him to stop, hoping with all of my heart that the pain will stop for both of us. Let it stop, and let us heal. Let us be healed, for we will soon be apart. And I know the pain of the heart will kill us both long before the evil of this world can touch us.  
A/N: Yes, I know, yet another depressing chapter. I've tried (believe me) to make this story as upbeat as possible, but due to my current state of depression and the overall feel of the story, I've decided to just let it go where it wants to go. I also have a bit of pressure on me concerning college so that most definitely hasn't helped.  
  
And I'm an idiot because I've restarted one of my original fics after feeling guilty for neglecting it. Just some more stress to add! 


	28. Blue and Red, Sorrow and Love

Disclaimer: Hello there! You know damn well that I don't own FY so I'm not even gonna bother typing it. (But I do own Tansho ^_^)  
  
A/N: Ok, I think this is the last chapter I got posted on FF before hell ascended from the pits of the earth and FF deleted my account. I'm pretty sure! So I guess that means the brand spankin' new chapter in coming up next!!!! ^_^  
  
Chapter 28 Blue and Red, Sorrow and Love  
  
We eat in silence, and I hate him and myself for it. We should be speaking to each other, expressing anything and everything that comes into our heads, not caring what it is. But no, we sit in silence and emptiness as if waiting for our deaths.  
  
I halt my chopsticks just long enough to look up at him. He hasn't bothered to smooth his unruly hair or tuck his cotton shirt into his trousers. He's leaning close to the table, a bowl of rice tilted toward his mouth, his chopsticks working vigorously to shovel his mouth full. Satisfied that there is no more left in the small bowl, he returns it to the table and drags the back of his hand over his mouth. He reaches for his tea and gulps it down loudly, then sets it back on the table and looks at me. We are both still. Our eyes lock on each other, and he suddenly smiles at me.  
  
His eyes brighten and he leans on the table, resting his forearms on the smooth marble. His shoulders convulse for a moment as he chuckles lightly. Confused, I narrow my eyes at him and lower my chin.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" I ask, somewhat bitter that his mood has cheered while mine remains the same.  
  
Without speaking, he leans forward and reaches out a hand to my face. He rests his fingers on my cheek, and the pad of his thumb grazes the valley between my bottom lip and chin. He rubs lightly, then leans back into his chair, wiping his thumb on the edge of a napkin.  
  
"You had some rice on your chin," he says softly, a charming smile on his face. He drapes an arm over the back of his chair.  
  
And as I look at him, I remember that I saw him once like he is now. So relaxed, so nonchalant. At the tavern, when I first dared to approach him and touch him-that's when I saw him like this. Oh gods, that first touch. How warm his stomach was, how smooth.  
  
As I look at him, seeing his unabashed face, his beaming smile, his arcane eyes, his entire demeanor of obscurity somehow mixed with brilliance, I realize that the last thing we need is words. Words cannot dictate the language of the soul. We above all people should know this. And yet here I am, so desperate for spoken words, so hung on the idea that love will die without communication so complex I must struggle to understand it. So complex that I must use my brain instead of my heart to decipher a meaning. But he knows better. I look at him now and realize that he knows better than to put trust in words. And I am ashamed of myself yet again for allowing myself to be the fool.  
  
But I cannot linger on my self-loathing long, for suddenly he is standing and rummaging through the pockets of his black overcoat that lies sprawled on the bed. I watch him with interest as he plunges his hand into a pocket and retracts it with a curse when not finding what he is looking for. Finally, he pulls a small wooden box from an obscure pocket and wraps it in his hands as if thinking he can hide it from me.  
  
He turns around and walks back to me, the box clenched tightly between his palms as if he thinks it could slip away any moment. I smile and look up at him when he reaches my side and holds the little box out to me.  
  
"I wanted to give this to you last night at the tavern...but all that shit happened, so I never got the chance," he tells me, half-frowning, half- grinning.  
  
I take the box from him and turn it over in my hands, enjoying the feel of the smooth wood and admiring the finely drawn etchings of a beautiful little water lily on the lid. Even if it was empty, I would have been content to have the box itself simply for its beautiful craftsmanship.  
  
I undo the tiny metal clasp on the front of the box and lift the lid, gasping at what is inside.  
  
"Do you not like them?" he asks immediately upon hearing my reaction, thinking it was a gasp of disgust.  
  
I tentively place my first two fingers inside and gently caress Tasuki's gift to me. Two beaded earrings, identical to the ones that he wears, lie inside the box, gleaming brightly in the light given off by the fire burning in the hearth beside us. Two circular red orbs sit on top of an oval-shaped blue orb dangling from a golden ring.  
  
"Oh no, Tasuki," I whisper, "No, I adore them. But..." I lift my face quickly to glance at his own ears, making sure that he didn't give me his own earrings. "Oh good, I though you had sacrificed your own."  
  
" I wouldn't give you used jewelry," he protests, pretending to be insulted.  
  
I smile at his comment and roll my eyes. "That's not what I meant. I meant to say that I'm glad you didn't give up yours. I'm glad that we each have our own pair."  
  
I reach my hands to my ears and remove the simple onyx studs that Koi gave me a year ago. Tasuki takes one of the beaded earrings from the wooden box, brushes my hair back with his fingertips, and slips the golden ring through my ear. Out of habit, I move my face toward the warmth of his hands, liking the feel of them tangled in my hair. He takes the earring's mate and slips it through my other ear, being just as gentle and warm. And when he is done, I shake my head giddily to feel the dangling beads brushing against my jaw.  
  
"Thank you," I say, reaching my hands up to touch the earrings.  
  
"They'll keep us connected," he tells me, leaning over me to kiss the crown of my head, "They'll make us think of each other at the times we need to."  
  
I smile sadly. He and I both know how true that is, and how much we will need these tiny pieces of jewelry. They'll end up being our saviors, our confidants. And what is so strange about them is the two emotions that they seem to represent for us. The blue is a token of our sorrow and adversities; the red of our passion and love. And the gold ring represents the bind that holds the two together; for without difficulties, love cannot be seen in its true magnificence. How beautifully ironic that such tiny, seemingly unimportant things could be an emblem of us.  
  
"I've been thinking, Tansho," he says, suddenly moving away from me and sitting down in his chair again. "You don't want to leave the tavern for fear of the other women, right?" I nod slowly. "Well, I think I've figured out a way for you to stay at the tavern with them safely until I get back from Hokkan."  
  
I urge him on with my eyes, too afraid to tell him that no one is safe at the Black Dove.  
  
"I'll speak with the emperor and ask him to send men to the tavern every now and then to check on you and the others," he continues, "Shingen won't dare harm you or the others by order of the emperor. I'll make sure he faces death otherwise."  
  
I don't know what to do or say. I am exhilarated beyond imagination that Tasuki has devised a way to keep me and the others safe without any of us having to leave each other, but I wonder how Shingen will react to this blatant slap in his face. I realize I don't care. With the emperor's order and the threat of execution hanging over his head, I am sure that Shingen will not dare go against this.  
  
I look up at Tasuki, who seems worried that I haven't spoken yet.  
  
"Thank you," I whisper. I can feel the tears flooding behind my eyelids, but I refuse to cry. "Thank you," I repeat, my voice daring to be a bit louder this time.  
  
All he does is smile sadly at me, as if nothing but the sound of my voice will ever again make him happy. We both get up from our chairs at the same moment and fall into each other as we have done so many times before. But this time there is so much sorrow mixed with happiness that neither of us know which emotion to choose. We just cling to each other, both of us close to weeping but refusing to. I rest my cheek on his chest, sealing my ear over his heart so that I can hear his blood pumping through his body. And he wraps his arms around my back, squeezing me so tightly that I must struggle to breathe. But I don't even notice the crushing of his arms around me, because at least I am touching him. At least we are connected with these identical earrings that dangle from our earlobes. At least I can hear his heart beating inside of him one last time. At least we get one more moment alone; for suddenly there is a fist knocking on Tasuki's door, startling us out of our embrace, and we both know that the time we have dreaded has come. It is time for Tasuki to leave.  
A/N: Ah, finally...Tasuki's big day has arrived, and he and Tansho are gonna have to say goodbye. *sniff sniff* Or are they?? ^_^ Come back soon for the new chapter!! (I think I'll be nice and wait only a day or so before posting it, since I know some of my old readers are anxious to finally see the continuation of "Tansho"). 


	29. Creature of the Sea

A/N: Well, this is the brand spankin' new chapter of "Tansho"!!!! In honor of the long-awaited continuation of this story, I've composed a little song for my disclaimer (and also 'cause I'm a borderline neurotic-but I'm sure none of you will hold that against me). It's sung to the tune of that funky French song "Fraire Jacques" (don't know how the hell to spell that...but you know what I'm talking about...hopefully...)  
  
I don't own shit I don't own shit  
  
No I don't No I don't  
  
Cause I'm only in high school Cause I'm only in high school  
  
And I'm poor And I'm poor  
  
*ahem* Well, that was crap that you could have been saved from reading had I only said "I don't own FY cause I'm a poor high school senior." But what's the fun in that, huh??!! ^_^ On with the story!!!  
  
Chapter 29 Creature of the Sea  
  
He, too, seems to know that whoever is at his door has come to tell him that it is time to depart for Hokkan. For a moment, I tell myself that I won't let him go, that I won't let him take one step away from me. Then I ask myself if I care for him so little that I would purposefully hinder him from fulfilling his destiny as a celestial warrior.  
  
He lets go of me reluctantly to answer the door, and I watch him walk away from me as if I were watching him walk to the ends of the earth. Even though he only moves across the room, I want to run after him and fling myself on him, begging him not to leave me. It is both pitifully sad and magnificently beautiful how I am dependant on him. I once went so far as to compare him with opium when I first met him; and I realize now that my comparison was possibly very accurate.  
  
"Tasuki dear, you look horrible!" a mournful voice cries when Tasuki opens the door. I furrow my brows when I realize I know that voice. I know that the voice is a woman's, and yet I know that its owner is not.  
  
As I walk briskly across the room, I wrap my gown tighter around me to ensure my modesty and try to comb through my hair some with my fingers. I reach Tasuki's side and peek around him to see the boisterous, young purple- haired woman I met at the tavern-the woman whom I later learned was actually a man. He spots me and his eyes go wide almost instantly. He glances at his friend, then back at me, then back at his friend. A wry smile slips onto his undeniably attractive face.  
  
"Hello, Tansho," he finally replies with a hint of uncertainty lingering on his feminine voice, obviously not knowing exactly how to react to my presence in Tasuki's room. I smile and bow slightly, hoping to ease his discomfort in the situation.  
  
"Hello--Nuriko, was it?"  
  
He nods, closing his eyes in a generous smile. I smile back, finding the situation more amusing that uncomfortable and having to restrain my laughter. Tasuki only rolls his eyes and lets a lop-sided smile form on his lips, knowing perfectly well what his companion already knows. It isn't hard to gather the information--all three of us realize this. It's quite obvious now that Tasuki and I have become lovers. There's no use in attempting to hide it.  
  
"Well, I just thought I would tell you that we'll be leaving within the hour," Nuriko continues cheerfully. He gives Tasuki a quick and powerful slap on the back that sends shim off-balance a bit.  
  
"Goddamn it!" Tasuki mutters under his breath, wincing at the blow and reaching a hand back to rub his shoulder blade.  
  
"Oh, so sorry, dear," Nuriko purrs, "I forget my little gift every now and then." He grins again and winks at me before turning and sauntering off down the veranda.  
  
Tasuki lets out a labored sigh and shuts the door heavily. I grin at him when he turns to look at me.  
  
"I see you'll be well cared for on your journey. Your friend will end up killing you before the enemy does," I reply sarcastically, smiling and walking back across the room to gather my precious box from the table. I value the simple little wooden box perhaps as much as the earrings.  
  
"I have a few more things to have loaded on the ship. Could you help me carry them down to the dock?" he asks, picking up his black overcoat and shrugging in over his shoulders. He rummages around a few moments before he finds his belt and metal sheath.  
  
"Of course," I answer, helping him buckle the golden strap that holds his sheath to his back. Our eyes lock unintentionally, and we look at each other silently for a moment. And in this instant we both seem to understand all the things that have been tormenting our souls all night and all morning. We cannot solve them or even begin to pick them apart yet, but at least we understand them. That is something in itself, and we are satisfied for the moment.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******************  
  
I walk silently beside him as we make our way off the palace grounds to the docks. A bundle of supplies are slung over his shoulder, and I carry a few things bundled in a blanket in my arms. My wooden box is close to my heart, pressed between my chest and the bundle I'm carrying. I keep looking down at it and over at Tasuki. It is such a tiny thing, but so full of his love. And I cannot help but treasure it.  
  
I stare in amazement at the enormous ship that looms above us, rocking almost drunkenly every time a wave heaves it upward. I realize that I have never before seen a ship, but only heard of them by way of the sailors that regularly visit the tavern. It is obviously one of the emperor's ships; its intricate brass and gold adornments and polished wood gives it away. It is a magnificent creature, seeming almost alive to me. And I look at this thing and feel a gripping pressure inside of me, knowing this vessel is what will take Tasuki away from me and hopefully return him safely. I view it as a god for a moment in time, and offer it a beseeching prayer to protect him, because I know I myself cannot.  
  
Suddenly, I feel alone. The abandonment is so powerful that I lose my breath for a moment and must cough to regain it. I cannot feel him next to me any longer. Tasuki isn't by my side. He has left me. I instantly panic, my heart swelling and deflating painfully in my chest. Where is he? Dear gods, don't let him leave me yet! I'm not ready to see him go!  
  
I spin around in circles, my eyes searching desperately for a hint of fire somewhere. My head turns this way and that, threatening to spin away from my body. I am so full of fear and hurt and confusion that when I finally see him and realize that he is still here, I am close to losing my mind.  
  
He's standing near the edge of the dock with a young man in beautiful robes and an extravagant headdress. I study the strange young man closely, partially because I need something to focus my swirling mind on and partially because Tasuki seems so familiar with him. His hair is such an unusual dark gray color, and his eyes an even more unearthly yellowish color. I feel a bit unnerved by his presence and I force my eyes to look away. I almost feel unworthy to look at him.  
  
At least Tasuki is still here. I grip the bundle in my arms tighter and bend myself over so that my chin barely touches the cool wood of the little box pressed to my chest. At least I haven't lost him yet. Not yet.  
  
"Tansho."  
  
Hearing him speak my name makes me suck in a deep breath. I force a smile to lighten the facade that I have already plastered on my face. I want to smile genuinely for him; I do so much. But I just can't; not when this creature that will eventually steal him away is so near me and mocking me with its rhythmical swaying. But a smile is a smile.  
  
"Yes?" I answer him.  
  
"I've talked with his Highness Hotohori and he has promised to have you escorted back to the tavern once me and the others are gone. He has also promised to send men to the tavern once a week to ensure your and the other women's safety. If Shingen dares to harm one of you, his Highness will make sure he never does it again," Tasuki says to me. His voice is so cold with his re-awakened anger and contempt for my master and pimp. His eyes glow in an ethereal light that makes me wonder what kind of power he truly holds in himself.  
  
"He has also offered to prepare an apartment in the seraglio for you if you wish to remain here until I return. You would be taken well care of, Tansho, and if I.if I don't come back, His Highness has promised that you would continue to be taken care of." His voice has changed from coldness to sheer desperation. He wishes me to remain here in palace where he is certain I will stay safe and well. But I cannot abandon them, the women of the Black Dove, the others who are no different than me. They are the only family I know. They are my mothers and my sisters and my dearest friends. I cannot leave them to the mercies of our pimp when I have the chance to protect us all with a simple decree from the emperor.  
  
Tasuki's fear for me is enough to splinter my heart into a thousand pieces. He has asked the assistance of the emperor himself for my sake, trying to ensure my safety when he cannot be with me. And even more moving to me is how I know his understanding of the love I have for my confidants at the brothel, and how I could not leave them--even for my own freedom.  
  
"His Highness is most gracious," I reply quietly, "But you know my answer, Tasuki. I will gratefully accept his offer of protection for me and the other women of the brothel."  
  
He only smiles sadly and leans into me to take the bundle from my arms.  
  
"I knew you would say that, so the emperor already knows your answer. You will stay safe, and the others will as well," he says. He passes his bundle on to a servant, who quickly scurries onto the ship by way of the gangplank. The burning in his eyes diminishes, and I am put at ease by the softness that replaces it.  
  
"Thank you," I whisper to him.  
  
And once again I am amazed that he came to me somehow; to me and to no other. There were four other women in that tavern that night, but I was the one he chose to love. And there have been hundreds of men to lie in my bed, but he was the one I chose to lie with and love as well.  
  
And now here we are, standing face to face and knowing that we are going to be separated from each other so soon after we just met. He is leaving me to fulfill his destiny as a warrior taken from a constellation in the sky, and I am remaining here to wait for him to come back.  
  
I am taken out of my mournful reverie by an odd look on his face. His eyes are nervously glancing at the surging water below the ship, and his fangs bite at his bottom lip trying almost desperately to draw blood. His hands are unable to remain still. His feet shuffle. I suddenly realize that he is afraid.  
  
"Tasuki," I say, resting my hand gently on his arm to try to get his attention, "What's wrong?"  
  
He tears his eyes away from the sea to glance at me; but he can't meet my worried gaze.  
  
"You mean he hasn't told you?" A near-by voice replies. I turn slightly and see Nuriko swaying up to us, his arms folded delicately across his chest-which I now cannot help but notice is flat. "Tasuki!!" he scolds, "You should have told her. Now she's going to worry about you even more!"  
  
"Tell me what?" I ask, quickly becoming nervous myself. He is obviously unnerved by something-perhaps even afraid. The ship? Or the sea itself perhaps?  
  
"Can you not swim?" I ask, suddenly understanding. The defeated expression that passes over his face tells me that I have spoken the truth.  
  
"Oh he can swim--like a rock!!!" Nuriko chimes, patting Tasuki lovingly on the shoulder. "But don't worry, Tansho dear; I'll make sure he doesn't drown himself."  
  
He waves happily to me and walks off towards his other companions, leaving Tasuki fuming with embarrassment and anger.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?!" I cry, almost infuriated myself. How dare he keep this from me, knowing good and well that he was going to be traveling by way of the sea?  
  
"Because you have enough to worry about, that's why!" he retorts, "I sure as hell don't want you to be thinking of me drowning!"  
  
I sigh heavily, knowing how right he is. He knew it would worry me, and he had wanted to keep it from me. And I don't blame him for it; knowing this about him has instantly heightened the feeling of dread in my abdomen. How in the name of the gods will I stay sane now, waiting for him to return?  
  
But as always, the years of learning how to please and be pleased have been re-awakened in my mind yet again, and I find myself thinking of the day when he will return--of what we will be so desperate to do.  
  
"There's one good thing about your not knowing how to swim," I say, my eyes darting to his alluringly. His face instantly brightens at my devious glance, making me grin madly.  
  
"And what would that be?" he asks, slowly slipping a hand around my waist to draw me closer to him. I curl my hands over his shoulders, my precious wooden box grasped in one, a handful of his silky hair in the other. I rise up slowly on my toes to whisper in his ear.  
  
"I get to have fun teaching you when you come back," I answer, falling back down on my heels and lifting my eyebrows to hint to him my thoughts.  
  
He bursts into laughter when he finally registers my implications and swallows me in his arms, pressing me close to his chest. And I laugh with him, thankful that I've chased away his sadness momentarily-- even though everything inside of me is weeping mournfully.  
A/N: Well, there you go, the momentous occasion of the continuation of "Tansho". I hope it's met everyone's expectations. Ohhhh *sniff sniff* It's almost time for Tasuki to leave!! But what will become of Tansho during his absence. Will the emperor's men be able to protect her and the other women while Tasuki is gone?? Or will Shingen find a way around it?? (I know he's an asshole...but I ingeniously made him that way for a reason) ^_^!!!  
  
Anyways, thank you all so so so so so SOOOO much for the great reviews. Hopefully I will be able to work myself out of the angst soon (I'm kinda gettin' depressed myself every time I write). But that's what I get for developing such a sad storyline. Thanks again for putting up the utter sadness of this fic and for loving it like you do!! ^_^ 


	30. The Gentle Smile of an Emperor

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Fushigi Yuugi, but I do own my OC Tansho.  
  
Chapter 30  
  
The Gentle Smile of an Emperor  
  
The salty smell of the air fills my lungs as I stand alone on the docks, my long brown hair whipping into my face and sticking to my moist lips. I don't bother to pull the strands away. I let them go where they please.  
  
His last kiss is still prominent on my trembling lips; I don't want to risk wiping it away along with my tangled hair. I can still feel him pressed against my body, warming my chilled skin with his arms. His words are still ringing in my ears. His face is still burned into my mind. His sloped, pond-water eyes and unruly fire-red hair are etched in a magnificent, flawless portrait of beauty in my head. And I can still taste his last kiss.  
  
He kept his promise to me, just as he has kept all his other promises before this one. He didn't tell me good-bye. He never spoke the words to me. And even though a part of me wanted to hear them for comfort, a much bigger part of me knew that I couldn't bear the sound of them. And I will forever be grateful to him for not saying those two words to me.  
  
Even though I am soothed by not hearing those words, I am still aware that the image of him smiling at me, leaning nonchalantly on the banister of the ship's starboard side as it moves away from the dock, is slowly breaking me apart. He's leaving me. He waves and I quickly wave back to him, desperate to keep contact with him for as long as possible. But after only a few minutes, when the ship's monstrous sails catch a billow of wind, the sight of his hair suddenly changes from the blazing fire of a hearth into the minuscule flame of an oil lamp. He's moving farther and farther away from me.  
  
I remain on the docks for nearly half an hour, my eyes straining to catch a final glimpse of the white sails and Tasuki's unmistakable hair. But the imperial ship has disappeared somewhere between the sea and the sky, the sails seeming to turn into clouds floating above the water. And I can no longer see him. I reach my hand up to my ears and gently pull the blue and red beaded earrings, my lover's gift to me. I clutch the delicate wooden box in my other hand. I cannot believe it. I no longer have him  
  
I still stand there, unmoving. My eyes blink frantically, thinking that it is only my mind and not reality that has finally taken him from my view. I chew my bottom lip vigorously without my even realizing it. The metallic taste of blood is suddenly on my tongue, and I finally stop my teeth from doing more damage by opening my mouth to sigh. I feel tears flooding behind my eyelids, threatening to pour out. I hold them back bravely, not wanting my grief to begin its destruction of my soul.  
  
Before he left me to board the ship with his comrades, I had received the great honor of being introduced to the priestess and the other warriors who I had never met but had heard much about. I met Tamahome, the young man I had seen once before in the tavern, who was obviously Tasuki's friend but seemed to almost resent the fact. I met Chiriko, whom I was surprised to see was a mere boy, but from whose soul I sensed something more powerful than any sorcery. I met Mitsukake, a giant of a man with chiseled features and a soothing, almost medicine-like air about him that had greatly eased my sorrow-filled heart. And although I already knew Nuriko and Chichiri, I made a point to speak to the both of them and offer my wishes for a safe journey and return to Konan.  
  
But when I saw that petite, sweet-faced girl-child, who appeared to have barely entered womanhood, I was moved by something I did not understand. I was skeptical at first, thinking to myself sardonically, THIS is our savior? But I knew in the far corners of my heart that the angelic demeanor of this girl was only the armor of her true soul. I sensed unbelievable emotion emitting from her every pore. Her courage flowed from her into me when she enthusiastically reached her hand out to grasp mine before bowing formally to me. I returned the greeting, though I'm sure my eyes were wide with disbelief and my mouth hanging open from pure shock. This girl-child, this little creature who appeared as frail as an autumn leaf, was our priestess. She would be the one to save us. And although I would never again see her in my life, I would forever remember her.  
  
I am finally startled out of my reverie by a heavy yet gentle hand on my trembling shoulder. I turn quickly to find myself staring into the unearthly amber eyes of the exquisitely dressed young man I had noticed earlier. His calm face is molded into a sympathetic smile, and I feel a strong urge to throw myself into his arms and weep. But I stare, transfixed by his towering stature and refined demeanor. Who in the hells is he?  
  
"Tansho?" he asks, his voice as equally soothing as his handsome face, "That is your name, is it not?"  
  
"Yes. sir," I answer, feeling that I should show some amount of respect to him due to the obviously high-ranking garments he's wearing-even if I have no idea who he is or what rank he holds.  
  
He smiles again and turns away from me for a second to speak to an older man by his side. "Please call Miss Tansho a coach and have two armored guards escort her back to The Black Dove tavern in the city," he replies. The older man bows and calls to a servant boy nearby, who immediately hurries off to the anterior of the palace.  
  
I continue to stare in confusion and shock. A coach? For me? And guards to escort me?  
  
Then, like a bolt of lightning to my head, I suddenly realize who the young man in front of me is. Tasuki had told me that his Highness Hotohori would arrange for me to be escorted home. Highness. Is it possible? Could this young man be him.the emperor?! The other warrior of Suzaku?  
  
"I assume that Tasuki informed you of the steps and precautions that would be taken in order to assure your safety during his absence?" He asks me, returning his strong gaze to me.  
  
"Y-yes," I reply, nodding stupidly, "Yes, Your Highness, he did.th- thank you very much for.for.offering your assistance." I continue to stare rudely at him; my mouth continues to hang open.  
  
He laughs and grins at my nervous stuttering, trying to comfort me with his cheerful and collected composure. "Do not worry yourself, Tansho. I will make sure that you are well protected until Tasuki returns. I had hoped you might reconsider my offer, though. Are you certain you would rather return to the tavern and not remain here?"  
  
I am only able to nod my head as an answer, and thankfully he understands and says no more.  
  
The sound of steady footfalls and wooden wheels grinding into dirt finally startles me out of my foolish rudeness and shock. A hand-drawn coach, small by royal standards but lavish by a peasant harlot's, pulls to the edge of the dock and halts, obviously waiting for me to board. Two guards in decorative armor with spears in hand stand on each side, waiting for their charge.  
  
"Come," the young emperor replies, motioning his hand for me to walk with him. I notice that his older attendants scurry close to his side, their old eyes still alert and bright. I walk beside him in silence, still overwhelmed by the treatment I am receiving that I would have never expected.  
  
The young man pulling the rickshaw-like coach lowers his handlebar to the ground to allow me to board. In a surprising gesture that makes me blink and gasp, the emperor holds out his hand for me to take. I slowly lift my arm and lay my palm on his as my bare foot carefully presses down on the single step of the coach. Steadying me gently, he helps me stand on the step so I can seat myself delicately without making the rickshaw topple over backwards. When sure that I am seated safely and comfortable, he releases my hand and smiles broadly at me as if he enjoyed helping me into the coach. I return his smile with a low bow of my head to show respect. I must admit to myself how admirable he is for remaining behind in his country even though his heart must long to follow after his priestess. He cares for his empire and for his people, and I respect him greatly for it.  
  
As the servant lifts the handlebar and levels the rickshaw with the ground, I feel as if I am in a fantasy world. Never before have I sat on such plush cushions so soft that I sink in them. Never before have I had a person-much less an emperor-help me into a coach. Never before has so many steps been taken to assure my safety and well being. My love for Tasuki and his obvious love for me overtakes me and I press my eyelids closed to keep myself from sprouting fountains of tears.  
  
"Thank you, Your Highness," I whisper in a barely audible voice, trying my best to keep myself under control. I don't know what in hell I will do if I begin to weep into front of my ruler.  
  
His jubilant smile alights on his face once again. I am amazed how much this man smiles. He seems eternally happy-as if some source of joy is constantly feeding him. "You are very welcome." Those are his last words to me, for he nods to the driver and I feel the light tug as the rickshaw begins to move forward.  
  
As the coach gently begins to roll away from the docks and to the palace gates, the rhythmic sound of my driver and guards' footsteps pounding into the dirt, everything begins to sink into my bones. I spoke to the emperor of Konan. I am being escorted home by his command. And all of this is because of Tasuki. His love for me is reaching across the ocean to protect me in the form of imperial guards and an order from an emperor. And only in this moment as the wind blows gently in my tangled brown hair do I realize something that I should have realized long ago. As I sink happily into the soft cushion of the silk pillows around my body, I realize how much I am truly loved in the heart of a man. A man drifting away on a desolate and treacherous sea-with a woman waiting for his return on an equally desolate and treacherous land.  
  
I run my fingers over the flawless, cool wood of my jewelry box in my lap and press it to my cheek to feel the smoothness of it on my skin. I then lift my fingers to the precious earrings that dangle from my earlobes. Tasuki's gifts to me, and, if he never returns to me, the only things that I will possess of him other than my vivid memories.  
  
As we exit the southern gates of the palace, the ones that I burst through the night before in my desperation to get to my beloved, I don't try to think of how long it will be before I see him again.I simply try to think of that wonderful day when he returns, and how many things will have changed for me when the sun goes down at its end.  
  
A/N: Yet another new chapter for all of you!! I hope you enjoyed it!  
  
Reply to Reviewers:  
  
Mary: Believe it or not, but I actually almost wrote it that way (with the women accompanying Tansho to the palace), but I soon realized how imperative it was to the storyline for them all to stay at the tavern (you'll find out soon, too.)  
  
Frechiecangal: You and Kitty Lynne had the same question about Nuriko, so I'll answer it for both of you. Chapter 29 took place after Tamahome's family was murdered by Suboshi, and I made Nuriko so unappropiately upbeat because Hotohori wanted them not to tell Tasuki about it just yet (I changed the actual timing of this event because of Tansho, but it did take place in the anime.)  
  
Kitty Lynne: Hey there, hon! I've missed you! ^_^ Well, I thought my depressing chapters could use a little bit of humor to lighten the mood, so I decided to pop in a few cute parts. And Hotohori's hair is brown? Dude, I must be color blind or something!! I swear I've NEVER thought of it as anything but gray! That's so weird, huh? Well, you asked when Chapter 29 took place (after the deaths of Tama's family) and I explain it all in Frenchiecangal's reply if you wanna check it out. But I'm kinda confused by your last question concerning Tama and Tasuki. I'll e-mail you soon so we can discuss it better, OK?  
  
Cacat-angel: Hey, Angel!! My wonderful e-mail buddy!! You know, I'm so happy you noticed how I kinda refrained from sexual situations in this last chapter. I tried to plan this fic out so that there would be a big cluster of lemons to give the illusion of a quick, hot love affair fueled by lust and little else. But now I've kinda made them come down off their high and allowing them to discover each other emotionally. And you know, I actually thought of letting Tansho go with Tasuki (how cool would that be to have her present during all the crazy stuff going on in Hokkan and Sairo), but I then saw that this is what quite a few of my readers expected me to do. Then I thought of her staying in the palace all safe and sound, but a few people expected that as well. So I had to go with the unimaginable option for her-return to the tavern. Sad, yes.but I've written some pretty good stuff that couldn't have ever taken place on the trip or in the palace. ^_^ And I was also kinda relieved to see that you noticed something was kinda missing from this chapter. I thought it was just me and my over-loaded mind. Thanks for pointing it out to me, hon- you're a great friend. I'll try my best to get back to my best. ^_^  
  
Thanks to everyone else for your reviews. Even the shortest ones encourage me by letting me know you're taking to time to tell me how much you love my fic!!! 


	31. Return to the Gates of Hell

Chapter 31  
Return to the Gates of Hell  
  
My heart clenches painfully inside my chest as the driver nears the street where The Black Dove stands. The dull thump of the guards' footfalls next to my coach does little to calm me even though I am very aware of what their presence means. It is obvious to anyone who glances at us as we pass through the streets that I am a person of importance, seeing as I am being accompanied by two guards bearing the imperial crest upon their blazing red breastplates. But still, even with these lumbering, armored men by my side, I feel a deep ache of anxiety in my abdomen. I wish for Tasuki's hand, slightly callused from gripping his iron fan, to be wrapped around mine, squeezing my fingers to give me reassurance. To strengthen me. But I am alone, save for my protectors and driver.  
  
The tavern is suddenly looming above me, its windows glaring at me like eyes, its doors mocking and threatening me like the gates of Hell itself. I bite my lips to keep them from trembling and opening in a cry of sheer terror. The thought of going back inside that prison would be enough to drive a normal woman out of her mind; but I, for some strange reason, am able to fathom the thought. Barely. I realize that I have no other choice.  
  
"Miss?" One of the guards replies, his eyes locking gently on mine, manifesting an unusual depth of emotion for an imperial soldier. I am put at ease by his firm voice and soothing eyes.  
  
He lifts his hand from his side and opens it, revealing a medallion of some sort strung on a velvet cord nestled in his palm. It is large, nearly the circumference of a peach, and is the color of the horizon at sun- up. The deep red mesmerizes me at first, then my sight is caught by the image engraved upon its surface. A phoenix. A magnificent red phoenix with its head lifted high and its wings spread the length of the coin, preparing for flight.  
  
"It is the Seal of Suzaku, Miss," the soldier replies, obviously reading the confusion and awe in my dark gray eyes, "His Highness asked me to give it to you as a token of his promise to protect you. Master Tasuki was quite firm in assuring your safety until his return, you see. This will protect you. It signifies the hand of the emperor himself, and as long as it's in your possession, it means that you are under his protection."  
  
My eyes go wide with shock. I slowly take the pendant from the guard's hand, lifting it carefully by the brown velvet cord that it hangs upon. I instantly feel Tasuki's presence as I wrap my trembling fingers around the thick metal medallion. I feel him so strongly, like a constant flow of energy seeping into my skin from the warm, dense metal.  
  
"If you ever wish to see me, Miss, present this pendant at the palace gates and ask for Tokizo," the imperial soldier says to me as I continue to admire the pendant.  
  
The guard's soulful eyes connect with mine one last time before he offers his hand to me, telling me that it is time to go. But the firm grip of his fingers upon my knuckles tells me not to fear. I tuck the medallion into my gown, not removing my hand until I can feel the warm metal on the delicate skin between my breasts.  
  
With the guard's steady hand to balance me, I dismount the rickshaw and dip my head slightly to thank my driver. To my great surprise, he bows deeply before me. He then picks up the poles from their resting place on the dirt road, returning the coach to its horizontal position, and turns around to jog his way back to the palace. I don't realize that I am still gripping Tokizo's hand until I feel him squeeze my fingers gently, obviously trying to get my attention.  
  
"Miss Tansho," he replies, the tone of his voice like nothing I'd ever expect to hear from an imperial soldier.  
  
I turn to face him and suddenly realize what a giant of a man he is, towering nearly two heads above me. His stature gives me further comfort; not only am I being escorted by an imperial soldier-but a rather strapping one. I take a glance at Tokizo's comrade, the other man assigned to escort me. While not as tall as Tokizo, I can see the outlines of sinewy muscles beneath the thin layer of armor on his arms.  
  
I feel Tokizo gently release my hand, and I feel embarrassed for clinging to him like a coward. But as I follow him up the steps to the veranda of the tavern, I understand that I am not being craven, but rather intuitive. I am very aware of what waits for me on the other side of those doors, but I am also very aware of the strong presence by my side, as well as the one following behind me. Perhaps even stronger than the two imposing men who keep near to me is the feel of the warm inanimate object safely nestled between my breasts that could very well mean life or death to me sometime in the uncertain future. I know that as long as I hold the Seal of Suzaku that I hold some control over my existence.  
  
Tokizo bangs loudly on the tavern doors, and I almost instantly hear the shuffle of delicate feet on the other side hurrying to open it for us. Koi's silk-like golden hair shimmers in the early morning sunlight as she slowly opens one of the double doors to peer onto the veranda. Her clear blue eyes catch mine and go wide, a disturbing mixture of shock and disbelief buried deep within them. She violently pulls the door entirely open, her eyes never leaving mine for a second. In an instant, she has propelled her petite frame into my arms as if I had been gone for years and had just returned. I embrace her gratefully, surprised but almost instantly aware of the obvious-Koi had never expected to see me again. She clutches me, her chin pressed firmly on my shoulder, her cheek warm against mine, and begins to weep.  
  
"Tansho," I hear her melodic voice sputter, "Oh, Tansho."  
  
I smile and return the exuberance of her embrace, nestling my face into her golden hair and allowing the familiar cleansing scent of peppermint oil to calm me.  
  
"We thought we'd never see you again," she whispers to me as she begins to pull away, seeming to finally realize that I am of flesh and blood and not an illusion. "Asako told us what happened after Isamu and that man fought. She expected you to come back into the tavern, but.but you never came back. We searched all over the city, but we couldn't find you anywhere." Koi's eyes are wild, amazed, and still in utter shock.  
  
I almost think that it would do no harm to tell her that I had run like a mad woman in the pouring rain to the gates of the palace. That I had unabashedly attacked a pair of imperial guards in order to gain entrance to the palace courtyards. That I had spent the night in the arms of my lover only to watch him drift away on a ship the next morning out of my sight and reach-but still remaining very firmly in my heart. And I almost tell her everything for the mere sake of wanting to express to someone the immense sorrow and heartache that I feel. But the heavy sound of footsteps behind my friend halts my words before I can even form them in my mind.  
  
My eyes avert from the calming brilliance of Koi's to the harsh coldness of my pimp's, and my body becomes as immobile and frigid as ice as he stares at me with nothing less than pure abhorrence. And as he looks at me, and I at him, I feel my own repulsion toward him coming to the surface in a way that I had never felt before. Of course I always looked at Shingen with disdain in my eyes ever since he took me as his slave and brought me to the Black Dove. But never had I ever felt such a loathsome aura around myself. I had never thought my weak spirit could produce such a powerful atmosphere.  
  
I watch as the repulsed look in his demonic eyes fades and is replaced by amusement. His easy conversion unnerves me, making my heart speed up and the palms of my hands to break into a nervous sweat. Koi sees the disturbing change in my demeanor and turns around to follow the gaze of my eyes. I hear her lungs suck in a breath when she sees Shingen in the door of the tavern.  
  
I dare a look at my two escorts, and am instantly relieved to see that their keen eyes have noticed my distress at the sight of my pimp. They understand, and are quick to take the matter into their hands.  
  
"Are you Shingen, the master of the Black Dove tavern and brothel?" Tokizo's companion replies calmly, revealing his voice to me for the first time. It is smooth and even, just as refined and firm as Tokizo's. Just to hear one of my protectors speak in enough to halt the flow of my nervous sweat.  
  
"That I am," Shingen answers, "I see that you have returned my whore to me. I am much obliged to you, my good fellows."  
  
I stare at him, my insides seething and boiling like a raging storm. The goddamn audacity of the bastard!  
  
Tokizo and his companion let off a similar semblance to mine, obviously as offended and enraged by my pimp's comment as I am. I feel a surge of power as Tokizo calmly strides across the veranda and to the open door of the tavern, stopping only a few feet away from Shingen's monstrous form. He reaches into his breastplate and pulls out a small scroll bound by a scarlet string. He unties the cord and lets it fall limply to the wooden veranda, then unrolls the paper and stretches in out in front of him.  
  
"Actually, sir," he replies before looking down at the calligraphy written on the scroll, "We have come to present a decree written by the hand of his Highness Saihitei, Fourth Emperor of Konan."  
  
Koi jerks her head to the side to face Tokizo, acknowledging his and the other soldier's presence for the first time since we arrived at the tavern. Her eyes return to me and widen in shock yet again.  
  
"Tansho," she whispers to me, her voice wavering and frightened "Where the hell were you last night?!"  
  
But I cannot see her or hear her words, for my eyes are fixed on my pimp- and the expression of utter terror and disbelief written upon his suddenly pale and haggard face.  
  
Reply to Reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: No, Tansho's doesn't know about Tama's family. As you saw in the last chapter, Tasuki's demeanor changed after hearing about Tamahome's family being killed (that's what he and the emperor were discussing, as well as discussing Tansho's situation-I should have mentioned last chapter, huh?) I didn't think Tasuki should tell her considering how sad the poor girl already is. And I'm glad you liked Mitsukake's description! I knew he, Chiriko, Tama, and Miaka would only get a few small appearances since this fic is centered on my O/C and Tasuki, so I wanted those few appearances to be as emotionally impressionable as possible.  
  
Stariko-Tasuki No Miko: Channeling Shakespeare's ghost? Not quite. Getting inspiration from the magnificent Anita Diamant? Absolutely! ^_^ And, yes, you'll see why Tansho and the others must stay at the tavern. And don't worry about Shingen-he's gonna get his. ^_^  
  
Tensai-yuki: Yes, I adored writing Hotohori. I've only mentioned him before and this was the first time I actually got to put his demeanor and personality in my own words.  
  
Zerianyu: I'm not mad at you at all, hon!!! How could you think such a thing!? I'm grateful for ALL critiques my readers give me, but I only wish you could have been a little more specific as to what my writing was missing so that I could better it next time. But it's OK that you couldn't. I'd be glad to e-mail you sometime!  
  
Nako-chan: Yeah, I know the depression gets a little hard to bear at times (this should be a Romance, Drama, AND Angst fic, huh?) But I do promise a happy ending, though it may not be what you were expecting! ^_^  
  
Lady Viola: Yes, Tansho's returning to the tavern is gonna make a hell of a story. But it is kinda evil that I sacrifice my main character's emotions for my readers' entertainment, huh? Of well, I'm sure Tansho will forgive me one day. ^_^  
  
Lee Larrabee: A woman after my own heart!!! ^_^ Yep, I totally agree that it is NOT Tansho's personality to just sit around in the seraglio and chat with courtesans all day long. And Hotohori seemed happy? I did make him smile for Tansho's sake, if that's what you mean. But I thought I'd portrayed him at least a bit melancholy. And, yes, I must admit that this story is deffinatley turning into a novel. Would you believe me if I told you that I hadn't expected it to turn out like this? It just happened!! ^_^  
  
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed!! I'm glad to see that all of you are enjoying my new chapters!!! I'm graduating from my high school tomorrow night, so wish me luck, OK?! ^_^ 


	32. Seal of Suzaku

Chapter 32  
Seal of Suzaku  
  
Shingen stares at Tokizo as if he is a beast sent from the bowels of hell. And he stares at me as if I am that beast's seductive and cunning consort. His dark, lifeless, cold eyes radiate dismay as Tokizo calmly clears his throat and lifts the scroll to his eye level.  
  
"By order and decree of His Imperial Highness, Saihitei, Fourth Emperor of Konan, known also by the name of Hotohori of the Suzaku warriors, and by request of Tasuki of the Suzaku warriors, it is stated that no harm shall come upon this woman, Tansho, or upon any other woman residing within the Black Dove tavern and brothel."  
  
I listen very carefully as Tokizo reads the emperor's decree, knowing that my life lies upon the words he is speaking. Koi clutches my hand in hers when she hears him make mention to her and the other women. Her fearful eyes turn to look at me, but I am still blind to her. My gaze is set upon Shingen once again, and I find myself reveling in the defeated aura of fear that surrounds his putrid body. He continues to stare in disbelief, but I can sense his face attempting to hide the emotions raging inside of him. I know that he is panicking inside, for never before has he been forced to protect himself by protecting his prostitutes. He knows that he is being defeated by a person he never believed could rise against him.  
  
"Failure to conform to and obey this Imperial decree shall result in the immediate imprisonment of the perpetrator, as well as the immediate conviction of the perpetrator of insubordination of an Imperial Decree, the punishment of which is execution by way of the sword."  
  
My blood begins to rush faster as Tokizo finishes that paragraph. I had never wished death upon my master before, but hearing the threat of it creates a powerful tidal wave inside of me. My eyes are sealed to Shingen's, daring him to show what is truly hidden beneath his moronic façade of nonchalance. I see it so clearly in his eyes. The shattering power. The dominance that he once held over me and the other women has dissipated like a dense haze around the mountains at noon. With a declaration written upon a scroll, his sway over me has collapsed in on itself and crumpled away. And it has left me in its wake, no longer terrified and uncertain of what my tomorrows hold in store for me. I have been given a chance to survive until Tasuki returns to collect me, his well- won prize after the long battles that await him in the North. He has given me power, the greatest gift a woman like myself could ever receive from anyone.  
  
"Miss Tansho."  
  
Tokizo's calm but assertive voice jerks me from my liberating thoughts. My eyes tear away from my pimp's unbelieving gaze and connect with Tokizo's gentle ocean-like irises. They seem to sway and ripple like the waves of the sea, calming my furious blood flow and tumultuous thoughts. I see him nod towards my chest as if telling me to retrieve something. Then, I remember the pendant that he gave to me as we stood outside the tavern. He wishes me to show the Seal to Shingen, and I quickly understand why.  
  
I hastily dip my fingers between my breasts and grope until I make contact with the soft velvet cord. I draw it from the silk of my rumpled gown, lifting my eyes to see Shingen's reaction as I dangle the scarlet amulet in the air in front of me. His tiny eyes squint even smaller as he angles his head to study the pendant, as if being able to see it clearly could destroy any sway it may have over him. I ignore him.  
  
"That is the Seal of Suzaku, a token of the Emperor given to Miss Tansho to further ensure her safety," Tokizo replies. But that is all he reveals to Shingen. I nod my understanding as the imperial guard catches my eye in one careful and hasty movement of his handsome face. It was purposeful. I know that by not telling Shingen just what amount of power the Seal gives me, I have earned even more protection for myself. The less he knows, the more power I still hold. And the less likely he will be to try to repossess that power after my protectors are gone.  
  
I tuck the amulet back in its place between my breasts. I will have my heart cut out by my own hand before that Seal is taken from me. I know very well that if I lose that Seal, I have put my life in jeopardy yet again. I will have crushed all chances of my ever leaving this place alive. And as I press my palm over the warmth of the metal beneath my gown, I feel fear begin to tentatively scratch at my insides.  
  
Tokizo turns to me and I watch in awe as he bends slowly at the waist, lowering his head below mine. His bow is one of complete submission and servitude, a sign to me that he is not merely acting out of the motions of an imperial soldier-but that he is committing his full allegiance to me. His comrade does the same, and after many long seconds, they both rise to their full height.  
  
"Take care, Miss Tansho," Tokizo says to me, his soft eyes smiling gently at me as his face remains stoic.  
  
And then they are gone, swallowed by the hustle and noises of the capital, returning to the majestic palace in the center of the great city, neither of them truly realizing how much hope they have left in their powerful wake.  
  
"We should tell the others," Koi whispers to me as we both watch Shingen turn and stalk back into the tavern, his broad back tense, his hands in fists at his sides. He is furious, and both Koi and I know it. But Koi witnessed the wondrous events that just took place and knows just as well as I do that we, the women of the Black Dove, have just received an unimaginable amount of sway over our pimp. And in my case, my owner.  
  
"Yes," I answer, my eyes never leaving Shingen's lumbering form as it disappears inside the dimly lit tavern. No words are spoken between us. He is acting as if the interaction among him, the imperial guards, and myself never even happened. But I could care less what he is allowing himself to think and believe, because I can still feel the warmth of the Seal on the thin skin of my chest.  
  
Koi and I return to the tavern, following silently after our pimp, and keep our eyes on him as he retreats into the back and out the door leading to the latrines. He may seem humbled by what has just changed between him and I, but I know better than to let my guard down. He will fight back, just as a cornered bull will go mad with fright and fury at his disgracing state.  
  
Let him if that is what the fool wishes to do.  
  
I follow Koi up the stairs to the rooms of the other women. And when we gather them into my room, their hair tangled, their eyes lax with sleep and glaring dangerously at me for waking them, I cannot look Asako in the eyes. The words that we spoke to each other the night before are still heavy and sweltering upon my heart, hindering the courage needed to look at her and tell her what she must already know-that I blatantly defied her and went to my lover. And I know that she knows. Because she cannot look me in the eyes either, and I understand why.  
  
As Koi relays the words that were spoken just moments before on the veranda of the Black Dove, Asako knows that they were spoken because of my audacity and benevolent foolishness. Because only a brazen, tender-hearted fool like myself would have the nerve to run to the gates of the Imperial palace in the middle of the night and the even greater nerve to spend the night there with a forbidden lover. And she knows that she owes me her life for the safeguard of the emperor's decree. But she also knows that I ask for nothing from her.  
  
"Tansho," Misa's firm voice echoes inside my head for a moment before I recognize it, "Is this true?"  
  
Her eyes are so full of hope. They shimmer and glisten in the early morning sunlight that filters through the drawn curtains of my bedroom, begging that Koi's words are true. I dip my fingers between my breasts and take hold of the smooth, brown cord, pulling the red Seal from the collar of my dress. It sways in the air between us for a moment before Misa finds the courage to touch it, to see for herself if this thing of salvation is real. And when she feels the warmth of my skin that clings to the metallic Seal, her mouth opens in a silent cry of joy. She collapses in my arms so suddenly and forcefully that I barely have time to catch her before she falls to the floor.  
  
Okichi stares wide-eyed at me as if I were a stranger, a prophetess from another land, a demon-slayer come to rid the world of corruption and brutality. And I want to tell her not to look at me like that. I want to tell her that I am just a mad woman, an indomitable whore who dared to open more than her legs to a man. I want to tell her that I am just a woman who loves a man, and that the man I love is the one responsible for this miracle-and not me at all.  
  
And Asako. My dear Asako. My mother and my protector. My obstacle and my confinement. My sorrow and my comfort. She is looking at me, her unearthly eyes shining with adoration. And in them I see the five long years that I have spent in this place, beneath her sheltering arms. I see her sturdy, used, ageing body standing tall and proud. I see all the things that she wishes could be atoned. And I tell her the best I can with my own eyes that I forgive her for it all. I tell her that I forgive her, and I tell her that I love her.  
  
I watch in awe as the great whore of the Black Dove lowers her head to her hands and cradles her face in her palms. And I imagine the scars carved in her lovely face washing away as she weeps on my bed, her entire heart laid out before her for all to see and forgive.  
  
But I forgave her long ago. And all I can do now is watch in admiration.  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: Of course I left the last chapter at a cliffhanger! They're my best friend. ^_^  
  
Lee Larrabee: Yep, Shingen has turned into a definite protagonist hasn't he? You and Cacat-angel kinda had the same view point concerning Shingen, so you can read her reply if you'd like a little more of my insight. ^_^  
  
Mary: Soon you'll find out why the other women couldn't go with her to the palace! It will all unravel soon, I promise! And yes, I did graduate from high school (a Christian high school, believe it or not! ^_^)  
  
Silence: Dude, what a kick-ass pen name! ^_^ And what I wouldn't give to be a sophomore again!!  
  
Cacat-angel: Hey, girl!! I got your e-mail the other day and I'll write back as soon as I get a few minutes, Ok? ^_^ Thanks for all the great compliments! * Beams * And thanks even more for the little critique on the adjectives (I'll try to cut back in future chapters ^_^) And on your comment about the pendant. Yes, Hotohori did give it to Tansho, but at Tasuki's request (I guess it's just yet another way for her to express how thankful she is to him for caring so much about her).  
  
Zerianyu: Don't be sorry! It's Ok!! And about Tasuki and the other warriors-you'll find out soon!! Have I ever revealed my storyline beforehand? ^_^  
  
Nako-chan: These chapters are pretty short, aren't they? Don't worry, they get longer as the story progresses. ^_^  
  
Okamiyasha: I'm actually following the anime (the manga has a few extra things going on it that I just didn't feel like messing with. Ain't I lazy? ^_^) And do you really think I'd let Tasuki die?!  
  
Thank all of you for your great reviews and for the congratulations you gave me on my graduating!!!! I'm so happy that I'm free-until I have to pack up and move away to college for a couple of years-then I'm really free! ^_^ 


	33. The Duties of A Whore

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin'!! ^_^  
  
Warning: OK, my darling readers, there will be a bit of violence here in a moment. Please don't panic; it's just a little temper tantrum at the most (you'll see what I mean when you read it).  
  
Chapter 33  
The Duties of a Whore  
  
The next morning, I wake from a sleep that seems to have lasted for centuries. I feel exhilarated and exhausted at the same time, refreshed by my long rest and withered from being idle for so long. I feel like my life has been both renewed and doomed. I feel as if I am now living in a dream, a shred of reality attached to my consciousness like a severed finger clinging to the knuckle by a scrap of skin. I feel lost. But I also feel free. I feel supine. But I also feel a wonderful surge of potency in my soul.  
  
The sun gently streams into my room, falling across the floor beside my bed, illuminating my face. I am surprised at how mild my return to the Black Dove has been. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not this. To have control of my life suddenly handed back to me after five long years evokes a strange feeling in me that I am unable to place my finger upon. I feel both joy and unfamiliar helplessness, as if I don't know what exactly to do with this new freedom. Gratefulness seems to be the only emotion that isn't mingled with the others that have tangled themselves together. Tasuki's immense love for me has given me not only something wondrous to look forward to upon his return, but has also assured my safety until he is able to protect me himself. And for this will I forever be thankful to him.  
  
I want to see him so badly, even though it has been only a day since he left. I desire to speak to him, to tell him how much I love him and how truly thankful I am. I want to tell him that I feel blessed by the gods after so many years of feeling damned. I want to tell him that by falling in love with him, I have been delivered from hell itself.  
  
And then I hear my door creak open, the wood squeaking in protest as it rubs against the iron hinges; and I realize that although I may be safe from the flames, I am still trapped by the iron locks on the gates.  
  
I lie quietly on my side in my bed, cradling my bruised face in my palms, my eyes closed and face lax, feigning sleep. I am aware of his presence by my bed. I smell his sweat, the masculine scent of his skin and clothes. It's a scent I once was fond of, when he would come unannounced into my room as he is doing now, and do with me what I now refer to as making love. He was once a gentle brute. A kind beast. But I never made love with him, at least not as I saw it. I would couple with him, of course; it was expected of me. But I would never make love; something like that didn't exist to me then. He would be careful with me at least, not force himself upon me or injure my young, frail body. And because of his tenderness towards me, I came to enjoy his midnight visits to my bedroom.  
  
Now I feel nothing but hatred radiating from his husky body and fiendish demeanor. The tender feeling so close to love that my pimp once had for me- -his little one, his dear little Tansho--has transformed into the boiling contempt of a man scorned and humiliated. A man backed into a dark corner by an emperor's decree. A man shamed and conquered by a woman. Not just a woman.a commonplace prostitute. Not just a prostitute.a slave.  
  
Or this is what his eyes see, at least.  
  
But not mine. I see the truth. I see what his pride has blinded him to.  
  
I see a man shown the reality of the brutal life his own hands have fashioned. A man who has been shown his true self-an arrogant, greedy, and demonic coward who has been exposed and warned of his evil deeds. Who has been given a chance to repent. Who has seen the consequences of his diabolical actions.  
  
And who is still blinded by his pride. Refusing to feel any remorse.  
  
I fling my eyes open and capture his in my gaze, bearing down hard into him with my unearthly gray eyes, trying to let him see what he has reduced me to. But I meet the dark, bitter, hateful eyes of a man who has been embarrassed more than his arrogance will tolerate. He stares back at me, meeting my tenacious glare. Neither of us move. I lie still upon my linens, my face still cradled in my hands; he stands like a marble statue at my bedside, his chin lowered, his arms at his sides. And we glare at each, one trying to intimidate the other enough to make them buckle. It is a foolish and lost cause. Both of us know that it is doing us no good. And yet we stare on, adamant on not backing down, determined to show the other that we are stronger than they think-stronger than they ever thought possible.  
  
And suddenly, the stoic, passive expression on his ruddy face begins to distort into the face of a devil. Red and furious, eyes wide and streaked with blood from burst vessels, lips drawn thin, eyebrows knit closely and dangerously together, jaw taunt and trembling. He has become a monster, a ravaging machine with no mind or conscience, a wild animal set on bringing down the thing that evades him-the thing that dares to rise against him.  
  
And like a bolt of lightning from the midnight sky, he is falling upon my placid body, pressing himself down on me, crushing me beneath the monstrous weight of his massive body. His hands wrap themselves around my throat and fuse as tightly as an iron lock. I claw at them out of sheer instinct, but I don't feel him crushing my air pipe. He isn't squeezing. He isn't beginning to choke the breath from my lungs as I expect him to. He holds me gently and carefully, like a delicate porcelain doll he is afraid of crushing; but I wrap my own hands around his wrists anyway, ready to pull frantically if I need to.  
  
He begins to lift me from my place on my bed, my body sighing as it is relieved of his brutal weight. He pulls me to my feet and stands me upright in front of him, his fingers still meshed together around my neck. And there we stand for a long time, him holding me in a way that would allow him to kill me quite quickly and easily. A simple twist of his wrists and my body could crumple to the floor. But he knows very well the consequences of any harmful action toward me, which sets my mind to working.  
  
And I suddenly realize. I feel it hit my chest like a boulder thrown from a cliff. I am safe from harm. But that is all. I am still a prostitute. I am still a slave. And I understand what my heart is screaming at me. I have not been rescued from my duties as a whore of the Black Dove brothel. And Shingen knows. And now I do as well.  
  
But, for some strange and disturbing reason, I am callous to my unfortunate realization. I lift my chin defiantly and brazenly, leveling my eyes with his. And I challenge him. I dare the bastard to do anything. Speak. Act. Think. I let him know with the harsh brilliance of my gaze that I am no fool, that I know what is still expected of me, and that I am not afraid. I let him know that I am numb to what should stab me in the very core of my body and soul. My eyes scream at his with all their might, telling him that I don't give a shit.  
  
But he is deaf to my defying screams. He ignores the intensity of my gaze. And he looks at me as if he is once again the victor. I feel nauseous at his disgusting arrogance, but I swallow the foul-tasting bile and keep my chin elevated, determined.  
  
"You've been very industrious, my dear," he snarls into my face, his words seeping through his clenched teeth, "But you only got away from a few good slaps in the face.that's all. I will expect you to go to work tonight as usual; I trust you won't attempt to buck the authority of your owner."  
  
Of course he had to remind me of who he is to reassure his own weak self. As long as he knows that I still belong to him legally and am bound by law to obey him, he feels safe. And, yes, I know that I am obligated to continue to work as a whore, earning my wage by way of my own self. And for some strange reason, it still does not unnerve or discourage me. I am still safe. I will still survive. But from this point on, in order to protect his own neck, Shingen will distort the Imperial decree to be able to keep his dignity. Even now, staring into his anger-reddened face, I know what he will dare to do. He'll announce to our clients that they are no longer allowed to take all possible liberties with myself and the other women. He'll say that we are to remain unharmed from now on in. And, of course, our customers will obey due to the popularity of the women of the Black Dove. It is said that we outshine even the courtesans of the imperial harem, even though our run-down brothel barely even compares to the silk sheets and opium and perfume-scented air of the inner-city bordellos. Our pimp's decision will be respected-simply because his whores are desired. And so shall the Emperor's decree endure under a false and tainted name.  
  
I know that Tasuki did not mean to overlook the fact that a decree ensuring my safety would do nothing for my unfortunate relationship with Shingen. He would not purposefully see to it that I was forced to continue on with my work as a prostitute; in fact, I know he would have tried his hardest to see that I be entirely freed of my obligations to Shingen and the Black Dove.  
  
So what went wrong? Why was mention of my profession left out of the decree? Why would Tasuki be unable to rescue me from my degrading titles of whore and harlot?  
  
Even though I fight vigorously against the feeling of defeat now sweeping over me, I cannot withstand it. I was able to hold my composure until Shingen left my room, but now I am crumbling in on myself. I feel alone. I feel as if I have been hexed. I feel as if malevolence itself has searched me out.  
  
But I am determined to survive until my beloved has returned to me. Even though my question is unanswered, I still feel nothing but adoration for Tasuki. He is my reason for living now. I have nothing else in this world, and I understand this. The women are well protected by the emperor's decree, but we must all continue our work. I will continue to live my life as I am expected; but in my heart I will keep the image of the mountain, to remind me of the life that is yet to come. The life that will soon sweep me away from this place of desperation and brutality to a gentle place that will become my haven. Soon, nothing will matter but the sound of the insects in the trees, the smell of rain soaked into the earth, and the warmth of Tasuki's arms wrapped securely around me, protecting me even though I have nothing else left in this world to be protected from.  
  
And it is these wonderful dreams that give my weak heart strength again.  
  
A/N: Well, I decided to update a little earlier than normal (I usually try to keep to the chapter-a-week schedule, but I'm kinda busy with work and volunteering right now, so I have to grab the time to update whenever I can). Well, as you can see by this brand new chapter, the drama has been turned on wide open. ^_^ So, what will happen with Tansho and her clients? Will the emperor's decree be honored or walked all over? And what about Shingen and his continual case of bastardness? ^_^ Don't you just love me taunting you with these nasty little teasers? Hee Hee.  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: So many compliments!! I don't know what to do with all of them!! Thanks, though, for all the nice things you said. I appreciate them wholly! Well, as for Tasuki and what's going on with him while he's away-I'm pretty much following closely with the anime as to the events in Hokkan and Sairo. The war at the end of the TV series is a major part of this fic. It will change a lot of things that I have going on at the time it begins (I won't tell you any more than that, though! ^_^) Tasuki's absence also gives me a chance to totally focus on Tansho and my other OC's. I'm glad my readers are so fond of them 'cause usually fanfic readers HATE OC's! Thanks again for the great review!  
  
Lee Larrabee: Short reviews are just as helpful as long ones! It tells me that you not only read and liked my new chap, but that you're taking the time to encourage me to write more! ^_^ Thanks!  
  
Mary: Soon!! You'll find out soon!! ^_^ And thanks for the congrats- I can't wait to start college this fall!! ^_^  
  
Chaotic Demon: I'm glad both you and your friend like "Tansho" so much!!  
  
Galena Silveroak: Kick-ass pen name, girl! So Celticish!! ^_^ And thanks a bunch for the compliments!  
  
Jazzy: Thank you!! You're cool, too!!! * glomps her back *  
  
Nako-chan: Well actually, I'm starting college this fall! ^_^ And thanks for the great compliment!  
  
Mystic: Calm down-you must be calm!! ^_^ And I LOVE cliffhangers! How could I ever kill them off?! ^_^  
  
Thanks to all of you, my dear readers!!! You so encouraging and sweet to me it's almost unbelievable!! ^_^ Love you all! 


	34. In the Days That Have Passed

A/N: Ok, here's a nice, long, chapter to read and revel in. ^_^ I know they've been short as hell for the past few weeks (so sorry about that! ^_^)  
  
** WARNING ** This chapter deals with some pretty heavy stuff, so please beware!! I basically reveal a little of what life has been like for the women at the Black Dove before the decree. I also deal with what some would call an extremely touchy subject (you'll find out what it is when you get toward the end), but I'd like all of you to read the A/N at the end of the chapter to kinda get an idea of what was going on in my mind when I wrote this (and for some explanations, too.)  
  
Chapter 34  
In The Days That Have Passed  
  
It is utterly amazing to me how swiftly and calmly the hours bleed together, forming days that eventually group themselves into weeks. It all seems unrealistic, like a dream world full of everything that is real- people, words, feelings. I drift through them all like a ghost, cut free from the land of the living but still held fast to it because there is a part of me that remains there. So I linger on, waiting for that one thing that still connects me to this place to finally show itself, to finally return.  
  
I wait for him, my eyes constantly searching through the days and nights. I look for the brilliant shine of his fire-red hair swirling through the masses of people that trap me, waiting for him to find me and carry me away. I see him in my mind's eye, grinning mischievously, his almost unnoticeable fangs peeking out from between his lips, teasing me. I see his emerald golden eyes looking back at me through the haze of smoke that lingers constantly in the tavern air.  
  
But the weeks pass by empty of any part of him.  
  
My life has been calm ever since Shingen's declaration that the women of the Black Dove brothel were to be unharmed by any man from there on in. By way of mouth, his order was spread among our clients, earning a few murmurs of annoyance and disapproval.  
  
Our customers thought it customary to discipline an uppity whore when she needed to be reminded of her position. All five of us, myself included, had received what was though by our clients to be a rightfully earned bruised jaw or eye whenever we might voice our opinion on certain things, whether it be a sexual act we would have rather abstained from or a simple request for a an extra gold piece from a customer who liked to spend the night in our room.  
  
We are defined as objects for rent. A few hours worth of pleasure and relaxation in exchange for a few coins. We are expected to perform and act as our customers see fit. Sometimes, a simple fuck is not what our men want from us.  
  
Some desire to be fooled, purposefully tricked into thinking that the woman they are paying for truly loves them in some way. They want to be sung to and kissed, touched in a way that makes them believe they are desired just as hungrily as they desire. These men are the lovers who pay for lovers, not just a whore to be used and discarded.  
  
And then there are the men who come to the brothel for the simple pleaser of being entirely different people. At this place, they morph themselves into whatever their hearts desire. A shy, mild farmer becomes a mad beast with the heated touch of a talented whore. A cold-hearted slave merchant transforms into a gentle soft-handed lover.  
  
And then there are the others, the ones who lust after pain more than pleasure. The ones with the demands that make us blush even though we have been fucking men for money for years. These are the ones that revel in seeing us in pain, cracking under the brutality of their hands and masculine desires. They grin when they hear us beg for them to stop. They laugh when we cry out. These are the ones we fear. The ones who could slit our throats if we anger them enough. Each of us has known one of these men, and each of us has cried ourselves asleep after our nights with them. We have cleaned each other's bleeding faces, caressed each other's bruised skin, and mended the torn and mutilated flesh between each other's legs.  
  
And, of course, it is these men who mumble among themselves upon hearing our pimp's order. They don't like being inhibited of what they view as their necessities, their rights. But, apparently they still desire us, for they come as often as they did before Shingen's declaration. They are harsh with us, and they go as far as they can without physically harming us, pushing us to the edges and leaving us there. But they do not harm us, and so we cannot speak against them. They are numerous at the Black Dove, and I suspect that Shingen is pleased that he didn't lose his highest paying customers. As a matter of fact, I doubt that we have lost even one client.  
  
How goddamn fortunate for Shingen.  
  
Tokizo visits often-at least twice a week or more. His first visit to the tavern to check on me and the others made me so nervous I could hardly speak to him. Perhaps it was his intimidating presence that was both unnerving and comforting at the same time, or perhaps it was the constant burning of Shingen's curious and fearful eyes on my back as the imperial soldier and I stood on the veranda. I spoke in low tones during our first conversation, making it very obvious to Tokizo that I was uncomfortable being within earshot of my pimp. And so that is how we got into the habit of taking walks during his frequent visits.  
  
Feeling free to talk about whatever I wished, and knowing that someone was listening intently, I quickly befriended Tokizo. His delicate eyes that contrasted so strangely with his muscular build gave me the most wonderful feeling of security. Of course, we made an odd pair to look at as we strolled through the marketplaces, temples, gardens, and streets of the capital. Him with his fire-red breastplate and helmet decorated generously with golden trim; and me with my flimsy silk gown, brazenly left open at the top of my breasts far more than any honorable woman would allow. Simply by taking a glance at us, passers-by would be able to tell as to what our occupations were. We were often awarded with the unabashed stares and hushed whispers of people wondering what in the name of Suzaku a palace soldier and a prostitute were doing strolling through the city together. But it happened so often that we eventually became immune to it.  
  
And even though the purpose of Tokizo's visits is to make sure the emperor's order is being obeyed, our conversations more often than not veer off in completely different directions. If we begin by discussing how myself and the other women are adjusting to the new and very appreciated rules of the brothel, by the time he escorts me back to the tavern, our talk has turned to the interesting gossip of the palace.  
  
But one day, he seems indifferent to the gossip I try to pry from him, and as I beg him to tell me the latest rumors circulating through the seraglio, he slows his pace until I have to slow mine in order not to lose him among the throngs of people in the street.  
  
"Tansho," he replies softly, yet with an unmistakably firm tone, "Would you mind if I asked you something personal?"  
  
His request makes me a little skittish, but he has become a trusted friend in the amount of time we have walked and chatted together. He is my protector, and I understand that he would never inquire into my unorthodox lifestyle without my permission. And I want him to know that I trust him; but mostly, I'm just curious as to what he will ask me.  
  
"Of course I wouldn't mind," I answer truthfully, although I doubted my ability to give a truthful answer for fear of losing his friendship if I happened to offend him.  
  
"Why did you decide to remain at the Black Dove instead of accepting the emperor's offer? You could be in a palace apartment now if you wanted to. Why are you still a." I knew he would ask that last question sooner or later, but I knew he would never be able to say the word-just as Tasuki was never able to truly say it.  
  
"Why am I still a whore?" I inquire gently. Our walking pace has returned to normal, and I slip my arm into his as we continue to walk down the street in no direction in particular.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Because I could not leave the other women here alone. They have been the only family I have known for the past five years, Tokizo; and although they are not honorable women, they are nobler in my eyes than any lady of Konan. And I owe them my life for protecting and loving me the best they know how."  
  
He does not answer for a long time, and I can't help but wonder what he is thinking. It is true I could be living quite comfortably right now, safe in the arms of the palace, waiting to be turned over into Tasuki's arms once he returns. But I chose the harder road, and I am walking it with my head held high nonetheless.  
  
He only smiles at me, and we both understand our conversation is over. In silence, he escorts be to the veranda of the Black Dove and kisses my hand gallantly before I return into the darkness of the tavern. Perhaps if I had lingered downstairs for a few more minutes, or gone to my window in my room, I would have seen Okichi walk onto the veranda just before Tokizo turned in the direction of the palace. And perhaps I would have heard bits and pieces of their soft conversation and caught a few of their curious glances at each other that seemed to be more flirtatious each time they dared a look.  
  
It has been nearly two months since Tasuki left and the women of the Black Dove were put under protection. And in those torrid two months my life has changed drastically. For the first time in all my years of living within the Black Dove brothel, I am able to sit at my vanity table and not see a contusion-littered face staring back at me.  
  
I sit in front of my vanity table now, looking at my reflection in the mirror. My face is clear of all blemishes, proof that the Imperial decree that Shingen claimed for himself has been effective. Nothing but gently tanned skin from my afternoon walks with Tokizo is evident on my face. But I see a dying woman in front of me. I see a forlorn girl-child still searching for a savior. I see despair. Sorrow. Fear. It is all still so obvious on my face. Even though my skin is as smooth and clear as it was the day I left my home for the capital, I am blind to it. I still see the face of a harlot. I cannot find a trace of beauty anywhere-but one single place.  
  
My eyes. I glance at my eyes and I see hope buried so deep within them that I wonder if it could ever be dug up. And I proudly realize that I did this to myself. I inflicted this miraculous thing upon myself. Tasuki gave it to me, and I plunged it deep within me, to a secure place where not even my own sadness could dislodge it.  
  
But even though my ethereal eyes give me some small amount of faith, I cannot continue to ignore the one thing that has been eating away at that faith. It has been nearly three months since my last woman's blood. And it has been over four months since Misa's and Koi's. We all know what this means, but after so many years, it has come to be a habitual occurrence that is easily and quickly taken care of.  
  
Asako went to fetch the midwife this morning, and we expect her any moment.  
  
I have seen her many times before. She is known as Mayonaka, a small, gentle elderly woman who has studied the art of midwifery since her girlhood. She is a trusted ally to us, and an unfortunate necessity at times. For without her careful, wise hands and her basketful of herbs and tools, we would be left to our own devices, something each of us has only heard horror tales about.  
  
My first visit with her was at her home, when Shingen took me there soon after my arrival in the capital. He never told me what the purpose was for bringing me to the small little house on the corner of our street that smelled of ginger and jasmine. But when I felt Mayonaka's warms fingers probing my most private of place as I laid on a pallet on her floor, I knew. He wanted to make sure that I was untouched by a man and that my maidenhead was still intact. As it turned out, I was. And the next night in the tavern, I was auctioned off for nearly two hundred gold coins to my first customer, the fumbling idiot who knew nothing of what to do with me. Apparently, as Asako told me many years later, my price would have been considerably much lower if I had not been a virgin. She had told me that I should be proud of earning such a staggering amount from my first client. I was disgusted. I never saw a single coin of that two hundred.  
  
I have seen Mayonaka many times since then, both in her home and at the brothel. She comes once a month to administer a womb tonic, brewed from the brown rhizome of Dang Gui to cleanse our wombs of what she refers to as impurities and bring on our menstrual blood. But we are not fools. We know the true purpose of her tonic. But rather than having contempt for Mayonaka, we are more thankful for her than any other person in our lives. For it is the Dang Gui tonic that keeps our bodies free of the diseases that ravage women like us who have had far too many men to count.  
  
And now we wait patiently for her to come and try to erase the most humiliating and sorrowful product of our immoral profession. I get up from my cushioned seat in front of my vanity table and leave the solace of my bedroom to venture downstairs into the kitchen where we will await Mayonaka's arrival. The other's are already there, their faces blank, their eyes dull. The smell of our dinner cooking fills our nostrils, helping to calm us with the scent of shrimp dumplings and steamed rice. Misa and Koi sit together on benches beside the wooden table in the center of the kitchen, watching with fake interest as Okichi chops water chestnuts. Asako keeps watch over the rice and dumplings, giving me a glance and a small smile as I enter the kitchen and sit next to Misa and Koi, my body tense.  
  
There is a thought in the back of my mind, torturing me maliciously without remorse. I see Tasuki and I in my mind's eye, making love in my bed, behind the tavern, in his bed at the palace, and my mind screams at me relentlessly to allow myself to give thought to the one thing I dare not think about. But after so many long days waiting and begging for my woman's blood to come, I finally give in to what has been pressing on my heart so forcefully.  
  
It has been close to three months since I last bled. Tasuki left me a little over two months ago. And as I count these weeks in my head, it slowly comes into light what I have been trying to repress for so long. Those painfully few, amorous, intrepid nights that Tasuki and I spent together fell where I should have noticed immediately-exactly two weeks after my last bleeding. Those wondrous, passionate nights when I made love to him coincided with my time of fertility. Almost goddamn perfectly. And, like the fool I was, I never even thought of my cycle one single time during our affair.  
  
And now, as I sit here waiting for the midwife to come, I realize that I am paying for my foolish negligence. Shingen usually allows us one week off work for our blood time, and another week to allow avoidance of our fertile time. But sometimes, our careful tracking and counting of days is incorrect and Mayonaka must make a house call to the Black Dove brothel to take care of our problem-as is being done for Koi and Misa. Asako thought it best that she and Okichi take the tonic as well to cleanse their wombs even if they didn't hold what the other's might. But I wonder if she and the others suspect that I am in the same predicament as Koi and Misa. After all, they know of my affair with Tasuki. And as women living so closely together, it is almost impossible not to know each other's cycles. Could they know? Do they know that I may be.?  
  
I don't like saying the word, even in the privacy of my own thoughts. It feels sacred; as if it is something holy that should not be slung around by the tongue and thoughts of a whore. So I don't even think it. Perhaps if I don't think it, then it won't be true.  
  
And then, as those very words echo inside my head, another thought bursts inside my mind in a blinding flash of pain and disbelief. I feel my mouth drop into a gape and my eyes widen even though I try to control my overflowing emotions.  
  
Dear gods--What if I want it to be true.  
  
A/N: I know, I know. I'm being cruel to you for making you wait (not to mention for making poor Tansho have to go through so much drama). As you have read, this chapter dealt with a very, very touchy subject (and the next chapter will deal with it as well). I'm letting all of my readers know now that just because I write about abortion in an indifferent manner, does not mean that I am for it OR against it. I'd rather keep my personal beliefs to myself if none of you mind, but I'd appreciate it if you left no flames concerning this. I understand that I'm seriously treading on touchy ground, but I felt the need to add this into my story to reveal a certain depth to Tansho's character later on. Thanks for being such great readers, and once again, please forgive me if I have offended you in any way. Oh, and if any of you are wondering, Dang Gui is an actual Chinese herb used by women all over the world as a contraceptive and a tonic to bring on menstruation.  
  
Reply to reviewers:  
  
Frenchiecangal: Damn girl, you've got it all figured out, Huh? ^_^ And thanks so much for being so open and sweet to me! You're a great reviewer!  
  
Mary: I do hope college is more fun than high school was (though my senior year did kick ass! ^_^) And how many more chaps of "Tansho" you ask?! Whew!! There's a few left! ^_^ I'm currently beginning to write chap 43, and after it I'm guessing maybe four or five more at tops.  
  
Zerianyu: No worries, hon! We've all got crazy schedules! ^_^ And I really didn't mean to make my chaps so short!! Guess I made it up to all of you with this one, huh?  
  
Stariko-Tasuki no Miko: Thanks!! And you wannna make a voo doo doll of Shingen?! Hee Hee! What a good idea!! Well, he's really big, fat, and bald! I wouldn't say ugly exactly, but my description of him implies that, huh? ^_^  
  
Nako-chan: Again, sorry that my last few chapters have been so short! I really didn't mean them to be. And you'll see what happens to Shingen- don't worry!  
  
Kitty Lynne: Hey there, my dear e-mail pal!! ^_^ You know, I've herd of Stockholm syndrome before-I just didn't know its name. That's really interesting, huh? I didn't think about that while writing that last chap. Oh, and I got your e-mail. I'll reply as soon as I can, OK? Maybe tonight when I finish uploading this chap! ^_^  
  
Thanks again to all my great, wonderful reviewers!!! I love you with all my heart!!! ^_^ 


	35. Forbidden Thoughts

A/N: Hey there all my readers!! This is just a reminder of my previous warning in the last chapter (though this chap is much milder). Also, I realized something while writing the other day. I began "Tansho" near the end of my Junior year, just before we let out for summer. Believe it or not, I've been working on "Tansho" for over a damn year now!! ^_^ Whew! But I do promise that it won't take me another year to finally finish it, OK? Well, have fun reading, and leave me some reviews, too!!! ^_~  
  
Chapter 35  
Forbidden Thoughts  
  
None of us speak. The only sounds in the kitchen are the soft bubbling of our dumplings boiling and the calm slicing sounds of Okichi's knife as she finishes the water chestnuts and begins on a small pile of bamboo stalks. The tension in the room is hard to define. Sadness. Anxiety. Nervousness. It all seems to be tangled together in a suffocating mass of silence.  
  
But then we hear the sound of the back door opening, and the breeze of our sighs of relief seem to echo inside the tiny tavern kitchen. The midwife never enters a residence by way of the front. It is a silent common knowledge that her business and the business of the woman inside the house are their own and no one else's. For this, the women of this city are grateful.  
  
"Asako?" Mayonaka's soft, aged voice drifts gently into the kitchen.  
  
"I'm here, Mother," Asako answers, leaving her dumplings to greet the elderly midwife at the back door.  
  
The women of the capital have called Mayonaka "Mother" as long as she's practiced midwifery within its walls. She is not their mother by body, of course. But by addressing her so intimately, they feel a connection with her wise soul, something that eases their discomfort and anxiousness in the times of their distress.  
  
Misa and Koi rise to greet the old woman as she enters the kitchen, offering embraces and kisses on the cheek that Mayonaka accepts with loving cordiality. Okichi does the same while Asako takes the aged midwife's burden from her, a heavy wicker basket that holds everything needed in her trade. I avert my eyes from it as Mayonaka approaches me, her small arms spread wide to accept me into them. I have to bend slightly to reach her height, but I still let her cradle my head on her shoulder as if I were a little girl.  
  
Mayonaka is a woman who has managed to age with admirable grace. Her hair lost its obsidian glisten many years ago, only to be replaced with the shimmering brilliance of hair the color of snow. She wears it in two soft buns set high on her head, held in place with rare gray pearl pins. And I have always thought her gently wrinkled face to be lovely, showing deep crow's feet in the outer corners of her eyes and laugh lines along either side of her painted lips.  
  
"My girls," she says to us, running her wrinkled hand along my arm until she is clutching my hand lovingly, "I haven't seen you for so long. I was beginning to worry for you, my dears."  
  
"We've been fine, Mother," Okichi replies, smiling down at the petite midwife.  
  
Mayonaka has seemed to dissipate the atmosphere of sorrow that hung in the air of the kitchen just moments before. And the scent of the jasmine incense she burns so often in her home has traveled with her along the streets of the capital to mingle with the thick scent of our cooking dumplings and rice. I see her sniff the air in a delicate manner.  
  
"Ah, shrimp dumplings!" she announces, "Do tell me, Asako, that you remembered to cook an extra for your old Mother."  
  
Asako smiles sweetly, showing the empty spaces in her mouth. "Of course I did."  
  
"Well then, my dear," Mayonaka replies, taking her wicker basket from Asako's hands, "Keep an eye on those dumplings while I boil some water for the tea." Okichi immediately rushes to the back of the kitchen to fetch a tea kettle hanging above the hearth, but Mayonaka stops her before she gets very far.  
  
"Now now, Okichi," she scolds, placing her basket on the wooden table next to the chopped bamboo stalks, "You continue on with your work and let me fix the tea on my own. I'm not so old that I need everything fetched for me!"  
  
Okichi does as she's told and returns to her slicing. Mayonaka turns to the rest of us before we can even offer our assistance and orders us to sit on the bench where we were before she came. And, more than willing to obey our Mother, we do as we're told.  
  
I watch intently as Mayonaka takes a small kettle from a row of hooks above the burning hearth. She carries it back to the wooden table where Koi, Misa, and I sit, sets it down, and begins to fold the long layers of her red silk sleeves under so they won't get in the way. She then turns to us and hands me the kettle.  
  
"Would you go fill this with water, dear, and place it over the fire to boil?" she asks, raising her eyebrows encouragingly. We all knew she would ask our help sooner or later if we obeyed her order to let her help herself. I catch a glint of laughter in Asako's eyes before smiling myself.  
  
"Of course, Mother," I answer, taking the kettle from her and making a hasty retreat from the kitchen and out the back door to the water supply we keep in a marble tub. Okichi and Koi had gone to the wells outside the city just the day before to fetch a fresh supply, so the water in the shallow tub was so clear I could see my reflection. Before plunging the kettle in, I dare a look at myself.  
  
I see myself for a moment, my skin pale, my eyes the only sign that life is still nestled inside of me. Dear gods, what if it was true. What if--  
  
What if I was carrying Tasuki--  
  
My long brown hair streams over my shoulders like waterfalls, nearly soaking themselves in the water basin. I straighten just in time and throw my head back like a horse bucking its bridle. My unruly hair settles on my back again, and I hold it together with one hand as I dip the kettle in and hold it under until it's filled to the top. My image in the smooth, sparkling water disappears as soon as I draw the kettle out again.  
  
I stare for a long moment at the rippling water that now fills the marble basin. I'm gone. And so is the thought that nearly broke into my mind. And I stand there for what seems like hours, contemplating what I couldn't have stopped myself from thinking. It could have happened so quickly, so innocently; and it could have stopped me from doing what I have to do. It seems so strange to me, that one single little word could change my entire place in this world with only a second of recognition. But why do I keep it at bay? I know that I slept with several other men during the time Tasuki and I were having our affair. But I also know my own body. I would be able to tell if something that was not welcome there had taken up residence. But although it's been only two months, nowhere near the amount of time usually needed for my condition to be discovered-I already know. I should really say that I knew. It has, after all, been pressed to the back of my mind ever since he left. And then, when we were constantly sneaking away to my room or behind the tavern, the thought never truly bothered me. I would be lying if I said I didn't actually like the idea somewhat.  
  
I feel passive. Content. At ease. Even though I should be panicking.  
  
And I also know my obligations as a prostitute, but that isn't going to last much longer. He's coming back soon to get me. To save me. To take me away. Why should something like this be so bad if Tasuki will be back soon?  
  
Because he may not come back, my thoughts whisper to me menacingly.  
  
I don't even feel my fingers going lax, releasing their hold on the kettle, allowing it to clatter to the grass-covered ground below. Even when I feel the cool water soak my bare feet and splash onto my ankles, I don't realize that I have let the kettle slip from my grasp. I hear it roll gently away from me, clanking softly against small stones and pebbles, finally coming to a halt at the base of Asako's sage bush beside the marble water basin. I don't move. I doubt if I am even breathing. But I do feel the painful pounding of my heart inside my rib cage, telling me that I'm still very much alive.  
  
How could I? How could I dare to let that abominable thought inside my head without even a fight? I feel pathetic. Weak. How in the hell could I?  
  
I blink my eyes furiously, jolting myself from my frozen state. In a blind rage, I stalk to the fallen kettle under the sage bush, grab it, and return to the marble tub of water near our back door. I plunge the kettle into the basin, causing the cool water to splash violently over the rim of the basin, soaking the ground around the tub even more. I don't notice. I jerk the kettle out once it has filled and stride across the water-soaked grass to the back door, where I suddenly stop as if an invisible arm has thrust itself out and wrapped its hand around my trembling shoulder.  
  
In my prostrate stance, I am able to gather my sanity back into myself. I listen as my heart calms itself within my heaving chest, irritated with myself at my irrational reaction. Of course he will come back! He promised me he would come back. And in the few days that I knew him, not once did he break one of his many promises. Not once. Never. Why would he do it now?  
  
"Tansho?"  
  
Mayonaka's placid voice startles me, making me jerk just enough to allow a small splash of water to come flying from the top of the kettle. I gasp when I realize what I've done, embarrassed at all the water I have wasted even though I came out here just to get one simple kettle-full.  
  
"Oh dear," she croons, bending to wipe the split water from the smooth wood of the back door threshold. "Let me take that, Tansho." I gratefully hand the kettle to her, then instantly bring my trembling hands up to my face. I cover my closed eyes, not wanting her to be able to see into them. To see what should be a secret. What should be safe from others. What should belong to me and Tasuki and no one else. Like when I dropped the kettle earlier, I don't even realize when I begin to weep into my palms.  
  
I hear the gentle clink of the kettle being set on the ground at my feet, and suck in a breath of surprise as Mayonaka's frail yet comforting hands grab the light blue sleeves of my gown and pull my shaking form to my knees. She gathers me into a sudden embrace, resting my head in the curve of her neck and wrapping her short arms around my back. She strokes my hair slowly, as if it would startle me to do it hastily. And she holds me silently as I kneel in front of her, soothing me with the slow, steady beat of her heart and the soft humming of old songs from so many years ago.  
  
Somehow, I know that she knows. I realized that she would know by a simple glance into my eyes. Her years of serving women in their times of need have created a sixth sense in her. So I had tried to hide my eyes from her, thinking that I would be able to hide myself and my secrets as well. But to no avail. She sees what I have been trying my best to become blind to. And, like no one else-not even myself-she understands.  
  
A/N: Poor Tansho, huh? She probably hates me for putting her through so much shit. So, what's gonna happen to her and her baby? Will she really decide to keep it? Will Tasuki be returning soon? Don't you hate me for teasing you? ^_^  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Zerianyu: I've just always thought of it as a touchy subject due to the time it spends in the media (i.e. abortion clinic bombings and the such). But I suppose it differs from person to person. And, nope!! No plot revealing!! ^_^ And, no, I suppose some people wouldn't view that last chap as sad, though I did when I was writing it. ^_~  
  
Frenchiecangal: Yes, angst will be gone soon (promise), though defiantly not son enough. And thanks so much for your compliment on Tansho and Tokizo's conversation.  
  
Mary: Yep, this is defiantly an epic fic, huh? ^_^  
  
Cacat-angel: Hey there, girl! You know, your reviews always make me feel like the best damn writer in the world! ^_^ You're so specific and so detailed that I wonder if you don't analyze the entire chapter before reviewing it ^_~ Just kidding, hon. And as for the section concerning Mayonaka, I did do a bit of research on Chinese herbs and such. And although I do agree somewhat with your comment on my sudden use of the word "fuck", I was kinda aiming to use it to make people think, "Oh, yep, she might be sad, but she's still a bit on the unorthodox side". Either way, thank you for telling me your opinion, Angel. I always appreciate criticism. ^_~  
  
Stariko-Tasuki No Miko: Yeah, hon. ^_^ No offence, but I didn't post on Father's Day because I had to work-not because I was hoping for a cruel foreshadowing affect. ^_~  
  
Tensai-yuki: I don't mean to answer a question with a question, but why would it matter that Hotohori know about her pregnancy? I can't make the connection.  
  
Touki Yume: Thanks for the compliments, hon! ^_^ And as for the remaining chapters of "Tansho", I'm presently working on chapter 44. And after that, I think they'll be maybe another four or five chapters to go. ^_^  
  
Thank all of you so much for reviewing!! I love you all!! ^_~ 


	36. The Last Thing That Was Lost

A/N: Hey there, all my dear readers! I'm sorry that this chapter took longer than my usual weekly update, but I've been dealing with preparations for college lately and been a bit busy ^_^ I'm sure you all understand. Anyways, enjoy the chapter and leave me some reviews if you can! ^_^  
  
** WARNING ** Ok, I know you don't want to hear this, but I gotta do it for your sake. There is some really emotional stuff about to happen in this chapter, as well as some blood and a bit of nasty stuff. Please forgive me, but it had to happen. You'll understand when you read it.  
  
Chapter 36  
The Last Thing That Was Lost  
  
While Mayonaka begins chopping the dried yellow and brown Dang Gui rhizomes for the tea, I make my way slowly up the stairs to my bedroom. She will tell the other women that I began to bleed while fetching the water, and that I won't need to take the tonic to bring on my blood. But it is a lie. The space between my legs is still dry.  
  
I sit heavily on my bed and eventually have to lie down due to the immense relief that is weighing down on me. "You loved a man," she had whispered into my dark brown hair, her jasmine- scented bosom pressed to my cheek, "Did you not, my dear Tansho?"  
  
I didn't know what to say to her. She knew, of course, that I was with child. But what she desired to know was why my soul clung so uneasily to the fact-and so desperately at the same time. She had brewed Dang Gui for me so many times in the past to assist me in ridding my body of what my damned customers had left with me, and never before had I acting this way. I had always sat silently with the others as the soothing smell of the Dang Gui infusion calmed our nerves. And I was always more than happy to drink my two cups down, eager to find my sleeping gown spotted with crimson the next morning. But not today. Today I crumbled apart and wept, openly mourning what should not be naturally mourned by a whore.  
  
"Yes," I had finally mumbled into her silk collar, "And now he's gone- -like all the others." Upon hearing that, she had sighed into my hair and pulled me away so that she could look at me. I had gazed at her silently, feeling myself being drawn into her strange honey-colored eyes, and I had told her his name.  
  
"Could you ever give me a name before, my dear?" she had gently inquired.  
  
And I was suddenly ashamed of myself. Not of my foolish act of falling in love with a man, not even my more foolish act of taking no precautions during our quick love affair to ensure I would not become with child. I was ashamed that I still doubted Tasuki. After all the times he made a promise to me, after all the times he kept those promises. Even after I swore to myself that I trusted him fully-I realized in that moment as I knelt in front of the midwife that I still did not trust his word. Even though I loved him with everything I had, I doubted his return just as I doubted my faith in him.  
  
"No," I had answered truthfully. No, I had never been able to name the father of a child I carried. I had never cared.  
  
And once again, I knew in my heart what my face, voice, and desperate eyes were giving away far too easily. I loved a man that was gone and could possibly never come back. Did I possess a heart dead enough to willingly flush from my body something that was left behind by the only man I ever loved? The thought sickened me. It frightened me. And my tears flowed as thick as blood, dripping down my cheeks and permeating Mayonaka's silk gown. But she didn't pull away; she clutched my trembling shoulders tighter in her embrace. "He said he would come back soon," I had cried out in a choked, tortured voice, "But what if he doesn't? What if this is the only true thing I have left of him?"  
  
My voice had become a hoarse whimper, a strangled cry, and an open doorway to my heart. I was speaking the heavy words that had been heaping themselves in mounds inside of me, unable to be spoken freely and openly. I needed more than a simple answer as to what I should do; I needed human contact. I needed what Mayonaka, my dear mother, was generously giving to me at that very moment. An embrace to lie in, an ear to weep to, and a comforting voice to hear.  
  
"Do what your heart needs to do, my dear," she had told me, "And I will keep it silent."  
  
And so I had glanced one final time into her golden brown eyes and retreated to my room. My thoughts were rampant. Had I just made the most idiotic mistake of my life-or had I just made a decision that would soon begin to reshape my life and my body into serenity and brilliant happiness? And I constantly repeated my own words inside my mind: "The only true thing I have left of him." I reached my hand up to caress the smooth beads of my blue and red earrings, wondering if I now had something that connected me more deeply to Tasuki than any gift he could ever give. And I dared to let my fingers brush across the soft fabric of my gown below my navel. Yes, something was there. A gift so much more precious than a pair of earrings and a delicately carved wooden box. And I had made the decision to keep his gift safe.  
  
As I lay here now, I give silent thanks to Mayonaka, and I pray to the gods that the other women will believe her tiny lie-a lie that may protect me and what I nurture within me until Tasuki returns.  
  
I fall into a strange sleep, and my mind fills with dreams. I see people, images of those who I knew so long ago and the silhouettes of those I have yet to know. I then see him, my beloved Tasuki, his blazing red hair whipping about his face as if it were burning him. Water churns and surges all around him, the sky above splits apart as lighting streaks through it, black clouds hide the sun. He's drowning in the depths of the ocean, his arms thrashing wildly to try to hold his weight above the violent water of the ruthless sea. I open my mouth to call out to him, to tell him not to give up, to keep trying. I curse him for not telling me he didn't know how to swim. The bastard! I could have taught him before he left for Hokkan. But now I watch him drown alone in the cruel waters of the ocean, the fire of his hair sinking below the waves, extinguishing the flames and taking his life.  
  
The color white surrounds me, above my head, below my feet, swirling around me in the chilled air. My bare feet sting from cold, and I glance down to see them buried up to my ankles in snow. Snow! There is no snow in Konan. My eyes dart around me, searching for something familiar. My eyes come to rest on him, his midnight black overcoat a stark contrast to the brilliant white of the snow that surrounds him. He's sitting down, his back pressed to a boulder, his eyes blank, staring ahead of him as if he were blind. He is looking at me, but I know he doesn't see me. Rivers of tears pour from his golden emerald eyes, streaming down his tanned cheeks, dripping onto his lap unnoticed. He's weeping, alone and unseen. Only I can see him.  
  
The night sky lies above me, sprinkled with thousands of stars, all bright and easily seen in the vastness of this place. The desert, a barren and strangely exotic place envelops me. I feel the irritating sting of blowing sand in my eyes, the smooth warmth of it on the soles of my feet, the dryness that it emits into the air around me. My lover sits in the valley of two sand dunes, his chest bare and slick with sweat, his shoulders reddened from the sun. And yet he's oblivious. I sense that his mind is far away from here, trapped somewhere, unable to escape, while his body sits idly in the desert waiting to die. I touch his face with my fingertips, hoping the contact will awaken him from his mindless sleep. But he's unaware of my touch, and I am forced to watch the suppleness of his skin waste away into nothingness, his collarbone and spine becoming apparent beneath his skin. Eventually, there is nothing left of him but the stark whiteness of his bones, lying in a heap at my naked feet.  
  
He is weeping again, crouched over a small body in a dark room. His sobs of mourning float through the air like the cries of a ghost, striking my heart like an arrow. I stand behind him as he weeps and cries, his shoulders trembling, his head hung, his hands clenched at his sides. I mourn with him and long for him to feel my fingers as they caress the smooth fiery red of his hair, but I know neither he nor I am real in this world. I am only dreaming, and only the gods know where he is, but I sense his presence in my heart. His strength, his sadness, and his triumphs reverberate through the nights that have passed, traveling along the vast distance that separates us, and burying themselves inside my heart. I feel what he feels, and I am where he is. If only he knew.  
  
I am shoved from my dreams by an annoying glare of light shining through my eyelids. I realize with an irritated sigh that I forgot to pull the curtains around my bed to protect me from the early morning sun.  
  
"Damn." I whisper, lazily rolling from my left side to my right to escape the glare of the morning. A strong cramp grips my lower abdomen, where I usually have pain during my blood week. I gasp as the pain flares suddenly and clutch my lower belly. I shift onto my back and my fingers drift lower until they reach my womanhood.  
  
It is then that I feel the sticky wetness between my thighs.  
  
No. No. Please.no.  
  
In a startled fury, I scramble from my reclining position into an upright one, my legs and arms struggling to disentangle themselves from my linens. I can feel something warm and slick clinging to my fingers, but I refuse to look at them out of fear of what I know I will see. I then sit deathly still, my eyes wide and confused, my lips spread, my hands trembling wildly as if I were taken by a seizure.  
  
I am too frightened to look.  
  
But I force myself to lift my fingers to my line of vision even though I am screaming at myself not to look. And what I see makes me choke on my own saliva. I begin to wheeze violently, and before I realize what I am doing, my eyes are stinging with the salt of my warm tears. I hear a ragged scream tear lose from my throat, burning me as it escapes my mouth.  
  
I sit in my bed, trembling in terror, shrieking in agony, staring in disbelief and fright at my blood-covered fingers. The scent of me is everywhere-the smell of my body mixed with the bold metallic spice of blood. I cry and scream, mindless and void of my sanity. My legs begin to flail and I suddenly find myself sprawled on the floor beside my bed, my knees bent and pressed together to try to stop the bleeding. But I know it's impossible. From where I lay I can see the red stains on the insides of my thighs, small scarlet rivers running down the length of my legs almost to my knees. And the front of my gown is soaked through, making the silk stick greedily to my skin.  
  
I kick at the floor like a madwoman, trying to get away from my bed, propelling myself into the far wall of my bedroom, against my wardrobe door. My head bangs against the smooth, dark, wood, bringing me to my senses momentarily. I reach my hand above my head, my soiled hand held far away from my body, and I grasp the handle of my wardrobe door, pulling myself clumsily to my feet again.  
  
What I see in my bed causes a tidal wave of nausea to crash into me, making my head spiral into nothingness. And as I fall to my knees heavily and heave the warm, sour contents of my stomach onto the floor of my bedroom, the image of my bed remains burned into my mind.  
  
Blood the color of my lover's hair is pooled where my body once lay. Fire. A blazing fire so bright that my eyes begin to dim at the painful burning it creates. As the warm salt of my sweat and tears glides down the valleys of my face, I fall in a heap on my side, exhausted, horrified, and wracked with agony as my womb continues to cramp and expel. The moment I feel myself slipping away into the release of unconsciousness, I curl my hands around my stomach and hold myself in sorrow. And as I fall into darkness, I mourn what will never be.  
  
I mourn the gift that was taken from me. The gift that was lost.  
  
It is difficult for me to say where I am.  
  
At first, I believe it is summer. I feel the warmth of the mid-day sun on me, reddening my cheeks and forehead. I see billowing white clouds around me, and suddenly realize that I am behind the tavern washing linens and hanging them to dry on lines tied from tree to tree. The crisp scent of crushed, wet grass surrounds me, as does the smell of my sweat mixed with my perfume. My hands are raised to the sky, pulling a sheet from the drying line and smoothing it until I folds neatly in my arms. I then place it in the basket at my feet and begin folding another linen.  
  
And then I feel the chill of the winter air nipping at me as I stand deathly still in the city's main square. My eyes are lifted to the black sky above the capital, as are the eyes of the hundreds of other people that surround me. Suddenly, streams of magnificent light sail through the frozen air with a deafening boom, illuminating the dark sky and blending with the stars. Another thunderous crash and the sky is filled with scintillating blues, reds, greens, and yellows that erupt and fall slowly to the earth in showers of sparkles. I listen as the people around me shout, laugh, and gasp in awe of the magnificent fireworks. It is only when I smell the aroma of candies, baked pies, and dumplings do I realize that it is the night of the Winter Festival.  
  
And then I feel both the warmth and the cold, and I wonder if I am really anywhere at all. I panic for a moment, then realize that this place is rather calming--rather enjoyable. And I relax as the darkness keeps its place around me, holding me in, keeping me safe, keeping everything else away.  
  
And so I sleep on, oblivious to the blood that continues to flow from me, oblivious to the pain that is dulling my soul.  
  
A/N: I think this may be the saddest chapter I've ever written for this fic. I know all of you are probably wondering how in hell I could ever write something so heartbreaking. The angst will lighten up soon, though, so you don't need to worry about bracing yourself for the next chapter (it's not half as bad as these last few have been). Well, obviously she is neither going to keep the baby OR abort it. The important part of this chapter is that she decided to have her child, but then fate interfered with her decision and made her feel totally helpless and depressed all over again. By engulfing Tansho entirely in her grief and misery, I am slowly building up her resistance to it so that she can eventually confront Shingen (I know that I'm partially giving my upcoming plot away, but I've felt so sorry for all of you who are commenting on how sad my last several chapters have been. I just wanted to give all of you some hope to help you through the next chapters. ^_^)  
  
So what will happen now that things have totally turned back around for Tansho? How will this affect her life? Could the poor girl's life get any worse?  
  
Reply to reviewers:  
  
Penguine: Yeah, I never thought that Hotonori's knowing about Tansho's pregnancy would help her. Thanks for explaining that! ^_^  
  
Galena Silveroak: Thanks for all the great comments (and especially for noticing my bit of research on the Dang Gui ^_^) And, I'm just curious, but what the hell is Pennyroyal? ^_^  
  
Cacat-angel: I just thought it's be interesting to talk about the contraceptives used back then in ancient China. And, yes, the infamous "fuck" incident. Will we ever live that down, hun? ^_^ Thanks for the critique about detail (I'll watch out for that!) And, don't worry, you'll get to see what's happening with Tasuki. ^_^ And no tragic ending!! I never give away my plot development, but I will tell you everything ends happy! ^_~  
  
OholeyKittness: Thanks so much, hon! You're so sweet!! ^_^  
  
Touki Yume: Nope, this is definitely not a normal story (as you have just read.)  
  
Thanks to everyone else who left a review for me!! Luv you all!! 


	37. The Longing

Disclaimer: I don't own shit, but you all knew that a long time ago, huh?  
  
A/N: Ok, well, I'm laying off the angst in this chapter; I thought you guys could use a break. ^_^ I'm updating so soon because I'm leaving tomorrow for Wyoming for vacation and won't be able to update for a really really really long time (sorry, but I thought I'd let all of you know. ^_^) So, to make up for it, I decided to update before leaving! Enjoy! ^_^  
  
Chapter 37  
The Longing  
  
Leaving sleep has always been such an odd sensation. I can feel myself lingering on in unconsciousness, sometimes clinging stubbornly to a dream I was having, not wanting to be thrust back into the world of reality. I feel stretched between here and there, not wanting to leave one place to go to another. I burn and shiver. I smile and weep. It all depends on what happened inside my sleeping mind and what waits for me once I am awake. Because the dream world has always been a sanctuary (and no one wishes to ever leave the comforting safety of a sanctuary), but reality is inescapable.  
  
And I know this. I drag my eyelids open, then close them again to drive away the blurriness of my awakening eyes. I find that I am resting in my bed rather than on the floor where I last remember myself being, and I see nothing but an empty room surrounding me. A small oil lamp is burning at my bedside, and the curtains of my windows are drawn open to reveal black nothingness outside. To my great surprise, I see that it is nighttime. I hadn't expected my sleep to last the entire day. Or perhaps two or three days have elapsed. Perhaps I am awakening after years of lying motionless in my bed, waiting for myself to finally grow tired of the dreamland inside of my mind.  
  
I shift from my back onto my side and suddenly feel the familiar, uncomfortable sensation of fresh cotton packed between my thighs to collect menstrual blood. I feel soft, clean linen under my sleep-relaxed body. And then I see it in my mind's eye all over again. Nothing but blood. And the scent of blood. The color of it. The slick feel of it on my skin. I remember waking in a pool of it, a pool of myself that had spilled from me sometime during the night. I remember my mind slipping away. I remember the sound of my voice rising to the ceiling, bellowing, screeching, howling like a maddened animal. The sound of a destroyed woman. The sound of pure sorrow. Hate. Anger. Mourning. Devastation. I heard it all in my screams, and I saw it all in my blood. Love. Happiness. Tranquility. Wholeness. I saw everything that I had hoped for in my life soaked into my linens and streaming down my bare legs. I lost it all with only one thing. One thing that I couldn't even see stripped me of myself when it was flushed from me.  
  
I begin to weep as I think of it again.  
  
My child. Our child.  
  
How sad that I only now find the courage to acknowledge what Tasuki truly gave to me. Only now-after it is no longer with me. And how sorrowfully ironic that it was my own body and not a cup of Dang Gui tea that caused me to flush my gift from myself.  
  
Soon, my soft weeping has turned into the wild, mindless, tortured laments of a woman who has been so brutally ravaged that she can no longer bear the weight of sadness.  
  
The days go on as if nothing ever happened. I wonder in my mind who it was that lifted me from the floor of my bedroom and laid me in my bed, cleaned me, and placed the cotton between my legs to collect the blood; but I never ask. None of the women show any sign that they were the one. They speak to me and treat me just as they always have. I receive no condolences from them, and I actually feel somewhat grateful for that. I suppose it would feel too much like pity coming from their mouths, seeing as they have become indifferent to terminating a pregnancy from so many years of being forced to do it.  
  
And so I believe it must have been my dear Mayonaka who found me and tended to me. But I am not entirely sure, so I never make a trip to her home to thank her. Instead, I burry myself in the Black Dove.  
  
As the days go buy, turning into weeks, I block all thoughts of my lost child from my mind, intent on surviving until I see Tasuki again. I know that if I allow myself to linger on what has been lost, I will fall apart before I ever see him again. I begin to sleep with my customers more willingly than ever before. And soon, I realize that I have learned to enjoy it once again, but only if I make myself believe that their hands belong to Tasuki. I listen to them speak to me, gasp, and sigh into my ear, and I make their voices shift into the smooth, accented tone of my old lover. And when my body is pressed to theirs, I pretend that it is Tasuki, and not a client that I am making love to. And I begin to crave the men I once was appalled by.  
  
My productiveness certainly keeps Shingen off my back and out of my face. For the first time since the imperial decree was read before him, his face softens when he catches sight of me. He praises me and rewards me. Soon, my bedroom is filled with his gifts-new silk gowns and sashes, jade necklaces, ruby earrings, pearl bracelets, and thirty extra gold coins a week to use however I wish in the markets. I allow myself to revel in my gifts, and even more so in my renewed popularity with my clients.  
  
They flock to me again, just as they did before Tasuki came. They ask for me, they beg for me, and soon Shingen must begin scheduling my clients. I receive no one who does not have an appointment with me. My charge by the hour rises nearly half of what it was while I was having my affair with Tasuki. I no longer have time to work the tavern floor to serve food or sake to our customers; I spend most of my afternoons and nights in the apartments at the end of the balcony with my clients. I return to my private room in the mornings to eat and rest.  
  
To my great surprise and relief, the other women seem more grateful than angry at how my popularity has risen. It doesn't take me long to realize why, though. Many of their own regular clients have left them for appointments with me, and most of their days and nights are at their leisure, while mine, however, are filled with my men and the money I collect form their purses.  
  
And I don't care. I suppose they deserve to be free of their men for a while; they have, as a matter of fact, been working the rooms of the Black Dove far longer than I have.  
  
I allow myself to blindly drown in the attention I am now receiving after many weeks of desperately trying to remain faithful to one man. But all the while I am happily spending time with my many clients, I am thinking of only him. I relish the comforting weight of the scarlet pendant around my neck and the inquisitive looks it gets from my clients when they see it resting between my naked breasts. And every time I feel the gentle tapping of the red and blue earrings on my neck when I am rocking madly on top of one of my men, I see his face in my mind's eye-his tantalizing little fangs, his blazing red hair that falls into his dark green and gold eyes. And when I cry out breathlessly, my client thinks that it is for him.  
  
When I see the fire burning in the hearth, I see him. I am constantly craning my neck to see over the rooftops of the city, trying to catch a glimpse of the blue shimmer of the sea. I spend every extra moment of my time watching the waves of the ocean, searching for the billowing white sails of a ship. I spend hours running my fingers over the smooth, dark wood of the little wooden box that sits next to my bed.  
  
But another month passes, and he still has not returned. The city rejoices briefly when the announcement is made that the emperor is to take a wife, and that Konan is at last to have an empress. I join the thousands of others in the streets of the capital to celebrate the imperial wedding, and allow myself a few hours of happiness at the wonderful news. A gentle, steady man such as the emperor should find love and comfort in the presence of a woman he loves and who loves him in return. I offer prayers of joy and prosperity to the emperor and the new empress at the temples and shrines of Suzaku. And when everyone else has left, I touch my forehead to the ground in front of the golden statue of the phoenix god and send my prayers for Tasuki as well, my tears dripping onto the red tiled floor.  
  
I keep my faith as strong as it will allow. I continue to work, my mind well-trained at blocking out the face, smell, and feel of my clients and replacing them with Tasuki. It disturbs me at times when I think of this, but I realize that it is for the best, even if it seems strange and unnatural.  
  
Tokizo comes to see me one day, and I realize that it has been nearly three weeks since I last saw him. When I see his gleaming crimson armor in the sun, I realize that I have missed his visits greatly. I greet him with an embrace and a warm smile.  
  
"Miss Tansho!" he exclaims, "It is good to see you again. Are you well?"  
  
I am pleased that he is equally excited to see me as I am to see him. "Yes," I half-lie, "I have been wonderful! And you? How is the empress? Is she and His Highness doing well?"  
  
"I have been well, and so has Her Highness, Empress Hoki, and His Highness the emperor. The palace has taken on a new life now that My Lady has stolen the emperor's heart" he answers. I am overjoyed to hear that the royal couple is enjoying their newly married life. But Tokizo's bright demeanor suddenly darkens, and I see the light in his eyes dim.  
  
"Tokizo, dear, are you unwell?" I ask, concerned at his strange shift of appearance.  
  
"Ah, me." he shakes his head, and looks me in the eye. "I must ask your forgiveness for my long absence. I meant to send another soldier in my stead when I was called to his Highness's service early this month."  
  
His tone changes immediately. Instead of his usual optimistic, mirthful voice, I hear anxiety, fatigue, and dread buried in his words. His behavior shows it as well; he leans on the banister of the veranda for support and his shoulders are slumped slightly forward, making him appear worn and sorrowful.  
  
"Tokizo?" I reply quietly, "Is something wrong with His Highness? Is everything not well at the palace?" My heart stops and my mind flashes before I have a chance to stop it from bringing his image into my thoughts. Tasuki. Has something happened to him or the other warriors? The priestess? I lift my eyes to Tokizo's, and beg him. "Tokizo.what has happened?"  
  
"Kutou." Tokizo relies slowly, "Is planning to attack us. They have divisions posted on our eastern borders, waiting for command from their emperor. That is why I have been unable to visit you as I should. His Highness promoted me from palace guard to imperial spy. I have been on the eastern borders tracking the movements of the enemy and sending word back to the emperor of everything that occurs. He made the decision yesterday to begin mass assembly of the army. They begin movement to the eastern border in a week."  
  
This news is certainly not what I expected. My face must reveal my shock, for Tokizo quickly attempts to ease my worry.  
  
"There is nothing to fear, though, Miss Tansho. His Highness intends not to allow the enemy forces to penetrate past the eastern border. They will never reach the walls of Eiyo."  
  
I soon find I could care less about Kutou's army, the capital, or myself. My mind's barrier has been shattered, and all I can see is him. I stare past Tokizo into the bustling crowds of people who hurry through the city streets, and all I can see is him. Everywhere. All around me. The smell of his skin. The soft sensation of his fire-red hair on my cheeks. The touch of his hand on the small of my back, running along my arms, over my lips. I see his golden green eyes shining in the mid-day sun. I see his crooked smile. The sheen of his steel fan strapped to his back. The glittering red and blue beads of his earrings. I see him looking at me, and I wonder what he can see as I look back at him.  
  
But I don't have enough time to discern the look in his eyes, because tears are leaking from mine. I give a hasty goodbye to Tokizo, silently asking his forgiveness for my behavior, and I retreat into the darkness of the tavern.  
  
I can't allow myself to keep seeing him, to keep wondering if he's still alive, to keep wondering if he still remembers me. To keep wondering if he is coming back from me. I can't look at him. I can't see him looking at me.  
  
Because I am ashamed. Even though I did what I did with my clients out of love for him, I still know that I should be his. Only his. And the most horrible thing is that I know I can't. Not yet, at least. Not until he comes back and takes me away from here.  
  
A/N: As you can see, I've laid off the angst for once, though I'm afraid this chapter still had a tinge of unhappiness to it. But I promise with all my heart that things will get better soon!! ^_^ Oh, and in case any of you are wondering what in the hell Eiyo is, it's the name of the Konan capital (I don't think I ever heard it during the anime series, but I read about it on the back of a collectable card with Hotohori's pic on it ^_^) Like I mentioned in my earlier A/N, I'm leaving tomorrow for Wyoming and won't be able to update until perhaps the 14th or 15th of July. Sorry! ^_^  
  
P.S. Thanks to all of you who left reviews for me!! They encourage me so much! 


	38. Night Fire

A/N: Hey there, everybody!! ^_^ It's been a while, huh? It's great to be home (Wyoming was great, but Georgia can't be beat. ^_^) You people HAVE to go to Wyoming, though!! You wouldn't believe how beautiful it is (especially Yellowstone!) I saw a moose and her baby running across the highway; I saw a heard of elk just hanging out on a subdivision lawn; I saw wild swans; and I saw who knows how many buffalo!! (There was one who was sleeping right outside the window of a hotel I was eating at! I was, like, only three inches from it!! ^_^) Ahem, anyways, back to my story-- I'm so sorry it took forever to update, but I'm sure you understand my reasons. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. The angst is mild here (I bet you're all happy about that, huh? ^_^), so don't worry about bracing yourself for it.  
  
And I noticed a few reviews saying that you're not sure whether or not Tansho had a miscarriage per se. To clear that up, unfortunately, yes, she did. To tell the truth, I really enjoyed writing that scene despite the amount of sadness it contains. I've never written anything like that before, and it was really interesting to see what my imagination produced in the end (even though I almost did cry when I read my final product.)  
  
Chapter 38  
Night Fire  
  
As the sun sinks over the red and golden rooftops of the city, I visit Shingen in his room to see which appointments I have tonight. He speaks softly with me as he thumbs through my appointment book that he keeps for me at the oak table beside his bed. But I can't hear his idle ramblings. I stare blindly at the black characters written on the cream-colored parchment, not really trying to read the words, only studying the odd beauty of the lines they create. Even Shingen's scribbled, masculine handwriting is interesting to look at. Anything. Anything at all to tear my mind away from him.  
  
"Takuro in an hour--and Akahito at midnight," Shingen replies, as he slides his finger over the page, making sure he didn't miss a name anywhere.  
  
"Hmmm." I muse, "Only two tonight?"  
  
"It appears so," my pimp answers, "But that's all right, my girl-- you've earned a good night's rest."  
  
I give him a faint smile as if I am pleased to hear this. Inside, I am beginning to scorch from the disgust of seeing him flip through the pages of that goddamned book, smiling every time he sees a name written down under a time. And he'll continue this until someone finally stops him. He'll continue to linger at the base of the staircase, waiting for my customers to exit whichever room I led them to, inquiring them as to when they'd like their next appointment with me.  
  
"See you in the morning, my dear," he calls as I leave his room without saying goodbye. I fear that if I speak to him, he'll surely kill me. For I would pummel the damned bastard with every curse I knew. And I doubt that even the imperial decree from His Highness could protect me then. So I wisely hold my tongue, even though the revolting sound of his happy humming follows me to the rooms at the end of the balcony where I'll await my next customer.  
  
I cannot feel him tonight. I cannot hear his sighs or his moans; I cannot see his brilliant flaming hair; and most of all, I cannot truly feel him touching me as I use to be able to make him. I feel Akahito's plow- callused hands running up and down the length of my back as I perch on top of him, spent and somber after two hours of exhausting copulating with only ten minute lulls in between to allow him to renew his desire. The skin of his hands is thick and rough in all places, not just along the bases of the fingers as Tasuki's always were, caused by the strong grip on his iron fan.  
  
I listen to his heavy breath as it flows from his lungs onto my skin, slick from both his and my sweat. And I can feel it and smell it, but it isn't gently tinted with the scent of sake as Tasuki's always was.  
  
And as I still sit atop him, my legs spread and straddling his waist, I can see Akahito's sun-darkened face, his dark, bottomless eyes, and his bland chestnut hair. The bronzed skin, intense, gold-encrusted green eyes, and vivid crimson hair is nowhere around me. I cannot see him any longer.  
  
Annoyed, angered, and full to the brim of self-pity, I pull the linen from around our naked bodies impatiently. Without giving Akahito a single look or word, I wrap the sheet around my naked torso, sling my leg over his waist, and fall heavily on the bed beside him. I roll myself into the cool linen, welcoming its crisp chill after being pressed to my client's sweating body for nearly two hours-not to mention the couple of hours I spent with Takuro before him. I feel Akahito lean over me and lightly kiss my shoulder, his strangely gentle and polite way of thanking me. And when I feel the bed shift under his weight as he moves to rise, I feel an odd pang of guilt within my chest. I can tell that it is the coldness in my heart; I've become indifferent to the world and all that's in it. I've given up the warmth of my humanity because it is far too painful to sustain any longer. My body betrayed me not long ago, expelled from me the one thing I never thought I could have, and my heart closed. But this poor man who has come to me every week since he was fifteen, paying me far more than I ask for just to feel the softness of a woman, should not need to suffer from the chill that has consumed me. Before he can rise to dress and leave, I roll over and take hold of his wrist lightly, keeping him seated beside me on the bed.  
  
I cannot deny that he is a kind customer. I have led him to a bed many times in the past few years, and he has always taken me tenderly, never forcing me, never seeming to punish me as some of my other clients do. I used to move into his touches gladly, allowing my body to mold to his. But tonight I had no desire to let him caress me; I urged him to take what he wanted so that he could leave as soon as possible. And he had, the darkness of his eyes reflecting his hurt at my coldness.  
  
"I'm sorry," I say quietly, "I didn't mean to be cold." I give him a smile, and I am both surprised and relieved that it is a genuine smile. "Please stay for a while, if you'd like."  
  
He smiles softly in return and relaxes, lying down beside me again. I allow him to pull me close to him, and find that I have missed the scent of a man's skin so close to me. And this man truly has a love for me in a way most clients don't; he has always asked for me by name and has always been a loyal patron. I feel his hand search for mine, and I offer it to him. And when he folds his fingers around mine, he does something that no other client of mine has ever done. Silently and slowly, he lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles.  
  
We don't speak any more to each other. We only lay close together, both of us obviously starved for the tender touch of another human being. A man for a woman, and a woman for a man. And we sleep, cradled in each other's arms as if we have been lovers for as long as time has existed.  
  
I can smell him before I even sense his presence near me. The sea. The salt of the sea clings to the very air around me. But not just the sea. I smell the refreshing, pure aroma of snow. And sand. The unfamiliar, clean scent of sand surrounds me.  
  
Sadness. Anger. Anxiety. I can smell the scent of his emotions everywhere as if they were tangible objects that I could reach out and touch. And I resist the urge to spin madly to search for him. Instead, I lie still on the cool linens of my bed, shrouded by an odd curtain of mist, like a sheet of rain, or a spider web. And I wait for him to come to me. Just like he promised he would.  
  
The closer he gets to me, the more of him I can feel. His emotions wash over me like floods, soaking into my skin and giving to me all that he has felt in the weeks-the months-that we have been apart. The heat of him drifts towards me, teasing me like the tongues of a flame.  
  
And when I finally sense him just beyond the curtain that keeps me isolated in my bed, I can no longer hold myself back. He is just beyond my reach, and it is maddening. My hands begin to tremble, my breath quickens, and my eyes widen as his silhouette forms on the other side of the mist that separates us.  
  
He's here. He's come back for me. Finally. It has taken him over three months to do so, but he has kept his promise to me.  
  
Slowly, I reach my hand out to him, but I feel the smooth, thin curtain caress my fingertips instead. Heartbroken, I draw in a ragged breath and feel the tears flooding behind my eyes. And just as I am about to lose my hope of ever touching him again, I feel his hand close firmly over mine. My blurred eyes open fully, and I see his hand clutching my fingers in his firm yet soft grip. And then I feel his smooth cheek nestled in my palm. I hear his soft breath take in the scent of the perfume sprayed on my bare wrist.  
  
Suddenly, the curtain of mist and spider webs that separates us is ignited in blazing orange and blood-red flames, frightening me with their sudden appearance. I bolt upright as the fire climbs to the ceiling. Instinct tells me to draw back and protect myself from the fiery wall that is still suspended in the air even though the curtain that surrounded me has been incinerated. But his hand holds me firmly, preventing me from attempting to crawl to the other side of my bed. I cry out, fearful for both of our lives.  
  
And then he is pulling me out of my bed, away from the safety beyond the blaze. Racked by panic, I struggle and call out to him, begging him, trying to warn him. But I cannot even see his face, so I have no idea if he can even hear me. The wall of flames comes closer and closer as he pulls me farther and farther from my bed. My legs kick at my linens, trying to entangle themselves to hold me in the safety of my bed, but his strength far surpasses mine. All I can do now is stare in disbelief and terror as he drags my paralyzed body into the flames that churn wildly against each other as they flow up and down from the ceiling to the floor and back again. I brace myself the best I know how to accept the blistering scorch of the fire. But I never feel the heat, and I never smell the acrid scent of burning flesh.  
  
Instead, I find myself pressed against dark, smooth fabric, cool to the touch and smelling of rain and earth. There is an odd yet comforting pressure on my back, pulling me closer to the midnight-colored fabric pressed close to my cheek. And something is clutching my hand firmly, carefully, and tenderly all at the same time. I twist my wrist slowly, causing my hand to move within the palm of another hand. A larger hand, whose palm is much wider and rougher than my own. But it is also smooth in places-the fingertips and center are as soft as the skin of my breasts. Only at the curved base of the fingers does the skin become slightly rougher.  
  
My lungs draw in a deep, ragged breath as the copper skin of the stranger's hand comes into my vision. With deliberate slowness, I rotate my face upwards, sliding my cheek across the cool, black fabric until my chin is resting on the stranger's chest. My eyes gaze upward like a child's, curious and close to being frightened.  
  
And when I see him gazing back down at me, I finally realize where he has brought me.  
  
Fire. Everywhere. Surrounding us as if we are floating in the midst of a burning sea.  
  
His features are visible now. I can see the gentle slope of his strange eyes, the curve of his nose, the lop-sided grin set in his lips. His hair flowing lazily in the invisible breeze created by the flames around us, blending with the orange and red of the wild blaze. The obsidian brilliance of his knee-length coat is a stark contrast against the bright scarlet of the fires. The glittering gold pendants that hangs from his necklaces of red and sky-blue beads illuminates the rest of him. His dangling beaded earrings blow lazily along with his wild hair.  
  
Everything that I remember about him is standing in front of me, smiling at me, holding me, telling me without speaking a single word that he has returned. I could stare at him for the rest of my days, but the beckoning look in his deep, iridescent eyes tells me that he no longer merely wishes to be looked at. In desperation and relief, I wrap my arms under his and grasp his shoulder from behind, pulling him down into me, possessing him once again. He returns my embrace with equal fervor, pressing me so close to his chest that the beat of his heart seems to seep through my skin and mingle with my own.  
  
And then I begin to weep. The tears are strangely clam, flowing evenly and delicately, not like the bawling, flood-like tears that I have become so used to weeping. These are gentle, placid tears of happiness and relief. And I feel complete as they continue to slide down my face. I feel warm and whole. Protected and cherished.  
  
But just as I feel him breathe deeply, preparing to finally speak to me after so long, the walls of fire surrounding us disappears into darkness. And then he is gone as well. I am left standing in the middle of vast nothingness, alone and cold with the salt of my tears still clinging to my face. Blackness. Midnight. Emptiness. Everywhere I turn, I see a great void of nothing.  
  
And then it, too, is gone. In its place, is the stark white of linen sheets. And beyond that, Akahito's tanned face, his eyes closed heavily in sleep, his lips slightly parted.  
  
The dream is gone, and so is he. The stranger who was once my lover. The only man who never paid for me. The only man who carries my heart with him everywhere he goes. The man who is gone. The man who is returning.  
  
And the man I love.  
  
It is so strange. So strange that I can't help but laugh gently into Akahito's sun-darkened shoulder. I can feel the heat of a blazing fire on my bare skin-- even though I never once felt it in my dream.  
  
A/N: Hey again!! Thanks so much for all the great reviews! They help in numerous places. I've gotten ideas for the plot from reviews, a bunch of great critiques that have helped me better my writing, not to mention the ego therapy they give me ^_^.  
  
I've decided to tell you something that might make some of you clap your hands in glee, but slightly piss off others. In case you haven't noticed- this story is really long. ^_^ And it's gonna be REALLY REALLY long in its completed form. As of now, I am extremely close to finishing this story (you must remember that the chapters I have been posting presently were written some time ago). I am currently working on chapter 45, and I do expect this story to continue at least to a 50th chapter, where I hope to conclude it (I'm trying my best not to go beyond 50, but I don't want to make my writing suffer in order to do it). So please do bear with me if your dying to see what happens to Tansho and Tasuki in the end, but if you're the kind of person who adores long fanfics, then sit back, relax, and read to your heart's content! ^_^  
  
Thanks again! Love you all!! 


	39. Liberation

A/N: Sorry this update took awhile, but I've been dealing heavily with college and just found out I may not get the HOPE after I thought I would.  
* scowls *  
  
Warning: Some mild cursing and a small amount of violence and blood (though not enough to make you curl into a corner and weep from being mentally damaged.) Enjoy! ^_^  
  
Chapter 39  
Liberation  
  
The moment I open my eyes, it is clear what I must do. Akahito's face is still lax with sleep, his eyes still pressed closed, his mouth still partially open, his arm still draped across my back, holding me to his chest. Being careful not to disturb him, I take his arm and gently lift it from around me, scooting away from him and toward the opposite side of the bed. I then lower his arm to his side, and watch as he shifts and sighs at the loss of the heat of my body next to his.  
  
Still being as silent as a moth, I creep from the bed and take care not to trip over his clothes as I search for my gown. After dressing myself, I stand still for a moment beside the bed and watch Akahito as he continues to sleep. He was my last customer. I knew this the moment I awoke. After my dream, I could never sleep with another man. I could always try for the sake of my life, but I would never succeed. There is nothing about other men that revolts me. I still think that a man's body is beautiful, but only because it is something that I myself don't possess. It's exactly the same with men's obsession with women's breasts-they don't have them, therefore, they long to see them and touch them. I smile gently and allow myself a soft laugh at my thought.  
  
No. The reason I will never touch another man but Tasuki runs far deeper than the rugged skin of a man's palm or the stubble on his chin. They all have souls, of course; but none are as riveting as my lover's. His is like a fountain of vigor, a lake behind a cracked dam that broke and washed over me when I touched him that first time in the tavern so long ago. His soul awakened me, made me come alive again. After that long five years that seemed to be five decades to me, I woke up; and, for once during my life as a whore, I dared to look around me and truly see what I had been forced to become. A thing whose value is measured only by what is between its legs. A blind merchant of myself. A woman of nothing.  
  
But instead of forcing my eyelids apart to make me realize what I was, Tasuki coaxed my eyes open with his gentle fingertips. And I saw myself. But after the typhoon of shame that immediately followed, I realized how easy it all was to repair. Maybe not technically; I still legally belong to Shingen, after all. And my body has possibly been permanently corrupted by the seed of hundreds of men. But spiritually and emotionally it is quite simple. Almost too simple. But of course, I of all people would still have problems as high as mountains.  
  
Trust. That is all that is required. How sad and how silly it all would seem to someone else, someone ignorant of all the things I have seen and done, heard and spoken, felt and touched. They would think me foolish. Possibly insane. Because to think that all of life's problems could be solved by a simple act of willpower is to think unnaturally.  
  
Perhaps that is why I have been so reluctant to truly put all my trust in Tasuki. I understand that it could mean I am not of a sound mind. It could mean I'm not really thinking straight, true, and logically. It could mean I'm taking a chance. And that is one of the most frightening things that a person could ever encounter.  
  
But I could really give a shit now. It's too late-far too late. I've seen him and touched him, and I know he's coming back to me. It's only a matter of time. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Who the hell cares?  
  
The only sad thing is how long it's taken me and how many times I truly thought I had finally conquered this goddamned demon. Too long-far too long. But what does it matter now? It has happened, and not even Shingen's monstrous fists could undo it.  
  
I lean over the bed and delicately smooth Akahito's unruly hair with my fingertips. He was kind to me, sincerely and genuinely loving at times, and I will truly miss him. He stirs under my touch, but his eyes remain closed, deep in sleep. I whisper a goodbye to him and turn to leave.  
  
I remain deathly silent when I exit the room that my last client and I shared. He'll wake up soon and realize that there is no one there to pay, and then I'm not exactly sure what he will do. He understands my hatred of Shingen, so I'm sure he'll take his leave from the brothel as if all went well, never allowing my pimp to think otherwise.  
  
I feel so invigorated. So free. I feel like I can stretch and not have my fingernails scrape up against an iron cage. And I realize that it feels unimaginably good.  
  
I thought I had succeeded in my escape from the room where Akahito still sleeps, but when I see Shingen standing at my bedroom door, his heavy shoulder leaning against the frame, I realize that I have not escaped anything at all. I stop, the soles of my feet frozen to the wood of the balcony floor. He smiles at me as if he is pleased to see me. How damn ironic. Freedom on my mind; captivity standing in front of me.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd decide to get up," he replies, his smile widening. "How generous of you to offer to entertain Akahito for the entire night."  
  
I debate in my mind as to what I should do. In all truth and simplicity, he is all that stands in my way. If he were not here to hinder me in all ways imaginable, I would be as free as a bird to fly wherever I pleased. But no. Here he is, standing next to my door, adamant on making me speak to him, pass by him, know that he is what stands between me and peace. I could flee. I could make a bound for the stairs and run like a frightened deer to the gates of the palace, begging the emperor to shelter me until Tasuki returns. Or I could defy my dream. I could blatantly ignore the heat that is still enveloped around my entire body, seeping into the pores of my skin. I could thank my pimp for his praise and tell him that I am only sneaking off to my room to freshen up before returning to Akahito's side to bid him good morning-and collect my fee for his two hours of my company, as well as the small extra charge for spending the night with me.  
  
Or I could do what I have ached to do from the moment Shingen wrapped his monstrous arms around my child's body and lifted me into his cart for the ride back to the capital-away from my confused siblings and guilt- tormented father. I could stare him in the eye and tell him that I am not his. That I am my own, and no one else's.  
  
He narrows his eyes at me, unnerved and confused by my peculiar silence. I am lost in my thoughts, but still very aware of his eyes on me. He is thinking to himself, wondering to himself. Soon he will become suspicious, but it makes no matter to me. I already know what I will do. I don't know, however, what will happen to me afterwards. A myriad of things could take place. But amazingly I detect no fear in me anywhere. All I am able to feel is the warmth of the walls of fire from my dream. And I can still see my darling Tasuki so clearly, so vividly. I cannot help but smile slightly. A mistake, perhaps, for Shingen sees it, and his narrowing eyes and pursing lips transform his face in front of my eyes. Ah, I think slyly to myself. There it is, just as I knew it would be. Suspicion.  
  
I lift my head until it is parallel with the floor, then lift my eyes until they are able to stare directly into his. He shifts his weight away from the frame of my door and walks slowly towards me, taking care to keep his eye on me at all times as if I were a tiger ready to leap for his throat at any moment. Now is the time. Liberation is at my fingertips. Freedom is floating just above my head. And they will be mine no matter what I will endure afterwards.  
  
"Shingen."  
  
His name is calm as it rolls off my tongue, but it freezes him in mid- stride. He looks at me with a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and interest, and I look back at him with a blank face. I cannot be unnerved. Not now.  
  
"Shingen, " I repeat, "Akahito was a very pleasant and cordial last customer. I trust that you will tell him this for me, since I will not see him again."  
  
Instantly, his eyes take on a sickening sheen. His lips tighten themselves into a straight line across his face. I know he wants to speak, to try to stop me before I even truly begin, because he knows what I am about to say-  
  
"And I wish to tell you something as well, " I reply softly, "I shall be leaving very shortly, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would continue to treat the other women as you have been doing these last few months. I think we both can agree that business has increased noticeably since the dutiful obeisance of His Highness's decree. I would hate for your good fortune to fade away after my departure."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" he spits menacingly at me, barely grinding the words out between his teeth.  
  
"I'm talking about my future, Shingen," I answer, my voice remaining soft and demure, "It does not lie within the walls Black Dove--or within your hands."  
  
I see his eyes widen, but I wonder if it is due to shock or fury. He remains perfectly still, but I can see a slight trembling to his form. I continue, deciding to be oblivious to him.  
  
"I am no longer yours. As of this moment, I am my own. And like I said before, I will be leaving soon."  
  
Upon hearing this, he flies at me like a lunatic. To my horror, I don't expect it. I could have easily dodged his heavy body with my lithe one; I could have made a dash for the stairs to evade him. But I never expected to see his eyes, flaming with anger, staring at me as he lifts his arm above his bandanna-covered head and hurls his palm into my cheekbone. His blow sends me into the wall; and in a blinding flash of pain and shock, I feel the rough, angled wood of a doorframe connect with my brow. The weight of my body follows my forehead, crashing into the wall and collapsing on the floor at Shingen's feet.  
  
For a moment, I am disconnected from the world around me. I open my eyes, but see a woman's slender hands in front of me instead of the dark, polished wood of the balcony floor. A bone needle is clasped daintily between her thumb and forefinger, and I watch in child-like awe as a pearl- white dogwood blossom takes form on the sleeve hem of a gown.  
  
"Watch closely, Tansho," the woman's voice replies gently, "You must not pull too hard or the thread will snap. It's very easy to do when working with delicate thread on such thick fabric."  
  
The woman's hands fade from my vision as if I lift my head upward. And then her face comes into view, and I feel my chest constrict as I recognize her. Smooth brown hair as dark as mahogany is twisted elegantly into two buns atop her head, each tied with white ribbons that flow like rivers of snow down the remaining curtain of dark hair spilling across her sloped shoulders. Eyes the color of smoke and peach-tinted lips smile serenely at me, beckoning to me, calling for me. I know her. I've seen her before. I've studied the masterful twist of her wrists and fingers as she sewed in her shop. I've listened to her soothing voice sing me to sleep with old folk songs. I've felt her delicate arms wrapped securely around my back, holding me to her breast. And it's been so long since I've seen her.  
  
"Mother," I whisper to myself, oblivious to anything but the scent of her exotic perfume and the strange curve to her gray eyes.  
  
And then I am thrust once more into the present world. I turn my head, only to feel a sharp pain above my eye as I accidentally scrape my forehead against the floor. I ignore the pain and turn my face upwards, trying to find my mother's face again. But he is there instead, looming over me like a storm cloud, his angry eyes on fire. And then I see his arm arch itself again, rising above his head like a tidal wave ready to come down on me while I lie vulnerable at his feet.  
  
The bastard! My mind shrieks to me. How dare he?! How dare he?! Not again! Never again!  
  
In a furious, blind, and desperate action, I shove my hand down the neck of my gown and grope in the valley of my breasts until my trembling fingers make contact with the only thing that can save me now. He'll kill me. He'll beat me to death. And I know it just as I know my mother's face in the midst of my pain.  
  
I grasp the pendant in my hand, the metal warm from being buried between my breasts for so long. As his fingers curl themselves into a fist above his head, and his arm begins its decent from the air, I pull the scarlet sign of Suzaku from its hiding place next to my heart and hold it firmly above my head as my shield from Shingen's oncoming blow. But his hand never even gets close to me.  
  
I look up at him, terrified and enraged at the same time, only to see his arm suspended in mid-air, and his eyes locked on the blazing image of the red phoenix god that is molded into the medallion clutched in my hand. Rage overcomes me, and I thrust it upwards at him violently.  
  
"Do it!" I howl at him, almost to the point of madness from both my fear and fury, "Goddamn you to hell, Shingen! Do it if you desire so much to see me dead at your feet! The gods so help me, I will see you dead at mine first!"  
  
He stares at the piece of metal grasped in my fingers, and realizes his horrid mistake. And for one glorifying moment since our confrontation, I see the terror in his eyes once again.  
  
My eye suddenly begins to sting, and I realize that blood from the wound on my brow has dripped into it. I lift my other hand to wipe the blood away, but never lower the hand that clasps the pendant. It is the only thing holding me back from the edges of hell, and I hold it as if I am holding my own life.  
  
Shingen lowers his arm and straightens himself slowly, his eyes still glued to my hand. He knows he has no power over me any longer. And although I know without a doubt that his rage for me still burns inside him, he will not dare to raise his hand to me again tonight or any time in the near future. But my time has been drastically shortened with my bold declaration of my freedom. And Shingen is no longer pleased with my docile and industrious behavior, now that I have once again turned rebellious. His patience with me is tried. I have injured his pride and his honor as a man and as a pimp. The fear of his own demise if he dares to harm me is diminishing fast. My life is in danger even though I believe for a short moment that I have saved it. He will one day find a way around the law of the emperor, and on that day he will surely kill me.  
  
He turns and walks with deliberate slowness down the stairs to the tavern, my eyes following him until his head disappears from sight. I remain crumpled on the floor, my fingers still curled around the crimson metal amulet, lifting it to the sky as if it were all that keeps the universe from crushing me.  
  
I finally lower my arm after several long minutes, and rest my aching, spinning head in the crook of my bent elbow. I curl my other arm to my chest and press the scarlet amulet to my heart once again, warming it with what little life I have left in me. It is possible that I have done more harm than good to myself. I have freed my soul, but my body is still in danger of being buried beneath the ground. Tasuki's quick return is my only hope now.  
  
I may be free, but only in the depths of my heart.  
  
A/N: So here is the chapter you've all been waiting for! Tansho has finally told Shingen to shove it! ^_^ Yay!! Well, of course, this is nowhere near the end. There is still quite a lot more to come!  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Touki Yume: Yeah, I was kinda going for the creepy, surreal effect. I'm very into the supernatural (in fact, it actually plays a rather big part later on in the story. ^_^)  
  
Zerianyu: Oh, hon, I'm so sorry you lost a relative! I hope you feel better soon-I know it can be hard when you loose someone you love. And, yes, Wyoming was really cool (very very different from Georgia ^_^), and you should go to Yellowstone! It's an amazing place!  
  
Kitty Lynne: Hey there, Lynne! Thanks so much for all the great compliments about Akahito (too bad he's not a major character, huh? ^_^) Oh, and I've read through chap 23 of the "The Promise", and I can't wait for more! You've got another hooked fan! ^_^  
  
Nako-chan: Yeah, I know that having so many chapters already written but not posting them is kinda cruel, but it's helped a lot in letting me update at a regular pace. If I wrote and posted my chapters one right after the other, my updates would be very erratic.  
  
Thanks a lot for all your reviews!! I love to read them over and over again when I'm having trouble sitting down and staying there long enough to write. ^_^ Love you all! 


	40. Beneath the City Sky

A/N: Well, this chapter is about as mellow as they can get. No action. No angst. No sex. No cussing. Just nice, calm prose. So enjoy it while it lasts, OK?! ^_^  
  
Chapter 40  
Beneath the City Sky  
  
I can smell the earth. Everywhere I turn, I smell soil and vegetation. The scent of nature, of living things, of the outside-it all surrounds me entirely. And I revel in it, lifting my face to the sky, into the warmth of the sun. I open my eyes and see nothing but the color green- everywhere. I reach my hands out to touch the leaves of a maple tree, but my fingers brush against something cold and hard, stopping them. I look down and see my palms resting on a stone windowsill. It is only then that I realize I am standing at a window--that I am inside looking out. And yet I can still feel the earth around me, I can still smell it lingering in the air, I can still feel it even though my fingers mindlessly caress the stone windowsill.  
  
Suddenly, I feel warmth encircle me, coming from somewhere behind me. Long arms wrap around me, pulling me backward and pressing me into a firm, warm body until my back molds perfectly to the chest of my captor. The masculine smell of dirt and rain, mixed richly with the sweet aroma of the trees that lay beyond my window engulf me, making my head swim in euphoria at the familiarity of the scent of the man holding me. I feel his breath on my hair, which falls loosely over my shoulders in mahogany waves. I lift my hands to clasp his, telling him without words that I'm glad he's there.  
  
The lights of the city are not here. The smells of the market are not here either. The crowds of people, moving in motions that remind me of the sea, are absent as well. There are no shouts of merchants and buyers arguing, or the cooing drawl of prostitutes hanging out of building windows beckoning to their customers. There is only the forest resting on the side of the mountain, with a trail from our fortress leading into its depths. There is only the smell of the earth rising from the forest, and the tantalizing aroma of steamed rice and sake down the hall in the kitchen. There is only he and I alone in our room, and his men returning from an early morning raid slowly streaming into the fortress with their booty. The only sounds are the humming and serenading of the insects and birds of the forest, and the occasional howl of laughter or shout from the men walking past our door on their way to the kitchen for a bowl of the rice I made when expecting their return.  
  
In a beautiful moment of joy, I finally realize where I am and whose arms are wrapped tightly around me. I am on the mountain, in the bandit fortress, looking out at the forest Tasuki described to me as we lay in his bed the night before he left for Konan. And I know it is he behind me, holding me to him as if we've been separated for months instead of the few hours his and his men's raid took.  
  
And in the moment I turn myself around to smile at him, welcoming him home, I make the mistake of blinking-and loosing it all. In an instant, nothing but darkness remains. But then I blink again, and the hazy silhouette of my wardrobe is visible, followed by my vanity table next to it. By the time I am fully awake, my dream swirling like dying smoke in the corners of my mind, it is painfully obvious that the mountain is still so far away. And so is Tasuki.  
  
I sit upright in my bed, my head pounding, and like a parade of images and sounds marching through my mind, I remember the events of the night before. I look towards the window and see nothing but the black night, and I wonder how long I have slept. I also wonder how I came to be in my bed. But then, just as I suddenly remember the angry words that passed between Shingen and I and the blow from his hand that sent me to the floor, I remember four blurry shapes coming to my side soon after Shingen left. Koi on my left and Okichi on my right, with Asako steadying my shoulders from behind and Misa lifting me upwards by my elbows, my dear friends lifted me from floor and into their arms. They slipped off my wrinkled dress and dressed me in a clean sleeping gown before carrying me to my bed and lingering on throughout the day to press cool cloths on my face to keep it from swelling. I remember Okichi brushing my hair, and Koi forcing me to drink down a bowl of warm soup. But when they left to go work in the tavern below, I don't remember. From these fragments of my memory, I guess that I've simply slept through the day.  
  
My fingers are curled around something so tightly that they have become cold and numb. I look down and see the crimson medallion with the image of Suzaku emblazoned on its front. I have been clutching it since I lost consciousness on the floor of the balcony. Smiling faintly, I unwrap my bloodless fingers from the edges of the pendant and gently place the soft brown velvet cord around my neck, tucking the precious piece of metal between my breasts once again. It saved my life. I will take it off only to return it to His Highness.  
  
The urge to relieve myself suddenly takes hold of me so fiercely that I fear that I won't make it to the latrines in time. After slipping on an outer robe over the sleeping gown the other women had dressed me in, I open my door as quietly as possible and am instantly assaulted with the sounds and smells of the bustling tavern beyond the banister of the balcony. The boisterous laughter of men mingles with the flirtatious giggle of the whores, and I can't help but smile. Still, I am glad that I am not down there with them.  
  
Instead of walking down the staircase that leads to the center of the tavern, I continue walking down the hall, my shoulder skimming against the wall to keep me out of view of anyone who might happen to glance up. I finally come upon the linen closet at the end of the hall and open the door to see the narrow staircase inside that leads to the back of the building. By following this out to the latrines, I'll be able to bypass the chaos of the tavern.  
  
Thankful for not having to possibly confront Shingen by daring to walk down the main staircase, I take to the narrow stairs, eager to get to the latrines. There is only one bend in the staircase, followed by a straight but steep decent to the back of the Black Dove. I open the door at the end of my climb slowly, peeking out to check if there are customers relieving themselves or perhaps one of the women who've led a client out back for a quick fuck. Satisfied that I'm alone, I open the door all the way and step out into the crisp air of the night. Autumn will be here soon, and the nights are getting longer. I am sure that by the time Winter is here, I will be spending the frozen season on the mountain, curled in Tasuki's arms as a fire burns brightly in the hearth. I am sure that the dream I awoke from just minutes earlier is a glimpse of my future. I believe it with all of my being.  
  
After relieving myself in one of the latrines, I sit for a moment on the edge of the water basin and just stare into the sky. The lights of the city reflect off the clouds, making only the brightest stars visible above me. But I still pretend to see the seven constellations of Suzaku somewhere in the dark expanse, lifting my hand and tracing shapes with my finger, not really knowing what constellations I create as I pretend to write in the sky. I remember the character on Tasuki's forearm, but I've never seen the constellation that stands for his name. Or perhaps I have seen it at one point in my life, only failed to recognize it for what it was. I wish he were here with me, to take my hand in his and point my finger toward his name written in the sky, to tell me that it has always been there and always will be there-just as he will always be there whenever I should need him.  
  
I would sit here all night if I didn't fear a client seeing me as he stumbles out the back door to try to piss without wetting his trousers. I thought before that I loathed this place, but now everything about it makes me come close to being nauseous. The only aspects of the Black Dove that could conjure up a feeling of peace from my lonely heart were the other women, my dearest friends in the whole world and the only people still helping me to cling to life. In truth, I owe them everything. And it gives me some comfort to know that I have repaid them for their years of friendship by remaining behind with them when I could have easily had the chance to leave the Black Dove forever.  
  
I still sometimes can't help but wonder what my everyday life would be like if I had decided to accept the emperor's offer and remain behind in the palace seraglio. I often imagine myself dressed like a courtesan, in silk robes that trail along the ground when I walk, with my long brown hair bound in intricate styles on my head with gold and jade. It is a nice fantasy, forgetting how drab I look in my plain gown with nothing but a silk sash to keep it closed in front, with my hair hanging loose down my back or sometimes tied in messy buns atop my head. But then I remember that Tasuki fell in love with me no matter what I happened to be wearing or how my hair happened to look, and the sadness clinging to me lifts for a few moments as I blissfully think of him yet again.  
  
Three months. It's been over three months now. If I had not had my revelation the night that Mayonaka found out about my pregnancy then I would have lost hope long ago. When I had told her I loved the man who fathered the child within me, that he wasn't one of my customers, but that he had still left me just as all my clients had done, I realized that I still doubted Tasuki's return. Even though he had promised me so many times before, I still doubted him. And it was on that night also that I miscarried. But at least I was finally able to put all of my trust in my beloved before the product of our love was flushed from me.  
  
It still pains me physically and emotionally to remember that horrible night when my own body betrayed me. I can still feel the excruciating cramps of my womb, and I can still hear my terrified scream when I saw the blood that covered my bed and my hands. And even though I have had several weeks to think about it, I have yet to decide whether or not I will tell him about my miscarriage when he returns from Hokkan. What good would it do to have to see that expression on his face when I whisper that our child was here for a short time, but was gone before I could even welcome it into the world? But I am worried about my own well being if I keep the knowledge to myself. Would the guilt of knowing but not telling eventually tear me apart? Or would I be able to keep it hidden in my heart until the day I died?  
  
All my thoughts on death have taken their toll. I'm now more depressed than when I was crumpled on the floor at Shingen's feet just the night before. I have to leave the night. I can't look at the stars anymore. Because even though I have no idea where it is, I know his constellation is up there somewhere and just knowing this makes me yearn for him all the more desperately.  
  
So I get up from the lip of the water basin and walk silently back to the narrow door that will lead me back to my room and keep me from the eyes of my clients. My bare feet slide over the damp grass, and I guess that it must have rained earlier in the day. I trudge up the narrow staircase without looking back for a last glimpse of the sky. I plan to go back to sleep and just keep sleeping until he comes back. I have nothing much better to do. Perhaps I might go walking one day with Tokizo if he is able to leave his post at the eastern border long enough to come call on me. Or I might venture into the market place just to listen to the sounds of the city. Or I might pay Mayonaka a visit, for it has been several weeks since I saw her last. But then again, what does it really matter what I decide to do as I continue waiting for his return? All that matters is the moment I feel his hand run along the length of my face, the moment I feel his arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, and the moment I hear his voice speaking to me, telling me that he has come back to me at last.  
  
Little do I know that I will only have to wait a few more minutes.  
  
A/N: Bwahaha!! The evil in me is revealed! ^_^ How on earth could I do this to you and make you wait?! But yeah, as you can see, our darling Tasuki is about to make his reappearance-finally! ^_^  
  
Well, there's not much else to tell you now-you're just gonna have to wait and see! ^_^  
  
Also, a great big thanks for all the wonderful reviews!! ^_^ They mean so much to me! Love you all! ^_^ 


	41. When He Returned To Me

A/N: Ok, this chapter has a bit of angst, plus, I reveal a shit-load of stuff that went on during the Hokkan and Sairo trip, so I guess that should be called spoilers, huh? Well, anyways, I've also changed my pen name (didn't like Iseult 1 too much ^_^), so don't freak out when you see that Tansho is by "Aama", OK? That's me! ^_^ Oh, and please read the A/N at the end of the chapter for a personal note from me, OK? Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 41  
When He Returned To Me  
  
I lie down in my bed, my head ringing with the sounds of the tavern below. I press my fingertips to my eyes, trying to rub away the headache that is beginning to form there, and this is why I do not see him when he creeps into my room as silently as a moth fluttering through my window. I hear him though, but I think he is one of the women at first, for I only hear the creak of the floorboards and don't bother to uncover my eyes to look and see who my intruder is. It is not until he gets close enough for me to smell the scent of his skin that I realize someone whom I haven't seen in a long time has entered my room. The other women smell of jasmine or pear blossom perfume. This person who is now hovering over me smells of the earth. I smell the forest all around me, just as I had smelled in my dream. And it is in that moment that I know he has come back to me.  
  
I splay my fingers like a fan, opening them so that my eyes can see him. He stands over my bed silently, looking down at me with a peaceful yet anxious expression on his face. I let my hands falls from my face and reach them slowly out to him until I make contact with the front of his black overcoat. I sit up quickly and press my palms hard into his abdomen, testing him, proving to myself that his body is not an illusion. And when his stomach rises under my hands as he draws a deep breath, I recoil without meaning to and clutch my folded hands to my breasts. I stare up at him, stunned and overwhelmed. Dear gods. Tasuki is here. He is here. He is here.  
  
He smiles lop-sided at me as he reaches his hands out cautiously, winding them gently around mine until I can feel the calluses of his palms. He lowers himself slowly to my bed until he's sitting beside me, still clutching my hands in his. He then brings them toward him, spreading them from their clenched shape until my fingers are once again splayed open and my palms are facing forward. I watch in amazement, my throat constricted with emotion and my brain drunken with the sight of him as he presses my palms to his face. During our short, passionate love affair he was always incredibly gentle and careful with me; but as he holds my hands tenderly to his face, letting me feel him for myself, letting me touch him again after so long, letting my body reawaken, he touches me as if I were a virgin who had never even felt the roughness of a man's skin. I suddenly realize that before now, our attraction to each other was an equal mixture of love and desire when I thought it was only lust that drew us together so passionately. I touch him, and even though my body longs to be united with him in every way, I have no desire whatsoever to make love with him. I just want to love him with my eyes and my hands and my voice, and I know that he wants to do the same now that we are finally together again. And although we both understand how coupling can bring together two people's souls in a way simple touch or conversation cannot, we also understand the power our two souls possess on their own-without our bodies. And although we both have experienced the physical and emotional pleasure of making love, and although we will no doubt eventually give in to the lust for each other that has been building inside of us during the time of our separation, we are content right now just as we are.  
  
As we sit here side by side, simply touching each other with our hands, the adoration and devotion that once flowed between us is suddenly restored after three torturous months of separation. We lean into each other and kiss tenderly and gently, with only our lips pressing together. It is so chaste and pure that it almost seems ridiculous, but neither of us notices the simplicity of it. I feel him move his fingers greedily through my hair, and I cannot resist the urge to snake my own fingers over his ears and into the thickness of his fiery-orange hair. How I have missed the touch of his hair!  
  
He gathers me to him and we lie down together on my bed, our faces so close that our cheeks are warmed with each other's breath. And for a long time, this is how we remain. Quiet, still, and pressed together as if coupling. But this is all we do-simply lie and revel in each other's presence as if we were the only two beings left in existence.  
  
But even though he seems relieved to finally be with me again, I can't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow hanging around us. And it takes me several minutes of studying his features before I realize that something horrible and unexpected took place before he returned to Konan. I can tell by the soft frown lines between his eyes and the anxiety in his gaze that his return was abrupt and unplanned, and that the circumstances that led up to it have caused his almost mournful demeanor.  
  
There is something very wrong. Actually, there are many things that are wrong. Suddenly uneasy and curious beyond belief, I untangle myself from him and sit up. His eyes follow me, and I understand that he knows I have sensed his emotions.  
  
"Tasuki," I say, barely above a whisper, "What's wrong? What's happened?" I look at him softly, pleading with him silently to tell me-if not to appease my own worry, then to give him a chance to get whatever is causing him grief off his chest.  
  
He instantly looks defeated, and I know that whatever happened while he and his friends were on their mission has taken its toll on him and scarred his heart forever. My own heart calls out for him, desperate to help mend and comfort him however I can. I lean into him and he more than willingly accepts me into his arms, holding me both carefully and furiously. He rolls onto his back and tucks my slender body into the hollow of his side, keeping my upper body wrapped in his embrace and resting on his chest. I curl my arms to my breasts, touching my hand to the area between them to feel the outline of the Seal of Suzaku. Simply touching it makes me remember the events of the previous night, and I'm suddenly aware of the subtle ache of my cheekbone and the soft stinging above my brow. Either my bruise and cut have disappeared or Tasuki simply hasn't noticed it yet.  
  
He shifts, still wrestling with himself as to whether or not he's ready to fully confide in me. But I suppose it the soft curve of my hips so close to him and the scent of my hair that finally makes him relax into me. I move my face to his, touching my cheek to his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth softly. With every move of my body and touch of my skin, he seems to relax more and more, softening to me after so many months of having to harden himself for the sake of his comrades and his priestess. And soon, after many more long minutes of burdened silence, I whisper to him to tell me, and he finally does.  
  
He starts at the beginning, just a few days after his and the other warriors departure, and tells me of their encounter with Soi, yet another member of their rival warriors. I listen intently as his eyes wander, somehow able to see the blinding flashes of lightening and hear the rumbling thunder deep in the clouds as the skies fill with the storm the lady warrior released upon them. I gasp softly when he tells me how he was swept off the ship, bringing back the memories of the dream I had the night when I saw him drowning alone in the darkness of the ocean. But, obviously, my dream was only partially true to reality. I silently thank the gods before berating him with how he should have told me he couldn't swim before leaving on a damned ship.  
  
He then tells me about the courageous act of the young priestess, diving into the tumultuous ocean to try to save him when it turned out that she couldn't swim all that well either. And when I learn how Tamahome, Nuriko, and the priestess were separated from the group after Tasuki was able to get aboard the boat alive again, I feel my heart suddenly speed up almost as if I am there in his memories, watching my friends being swept away into the sea. But then he quickly explains how they were found and relates the battle with Soi that followed.  
  
Their remaining journey to Hokkan was cut short by the opening of a passage caused by the vicious storm Soi had set loose on them. I was enthralled with the descriptions of the landscape he gave me-sheep, animals that I had only heard about, littered the green fields like oxen and horses do here in the south, and strange villages with people who had only rounded tents for homes. He told me about the family that had taken them in for the night, and the old man who had told them the riveting story of the Priestess of Genbu, a girl that came from the world of our own priestess nearly two hundred years earlier.  
  
So there were other priestesses? Of course there must be; there were four great empires, with four beast gods, therefore there must be four priestesses. And according to Tasuki, two are here now-the priestess of Suzaku, and her rival, the priestess of Seiryu. But what of the one I haven't yet heard about, the girl who became priestess for the western empire of Sairo?  
  
I don't have long to think about this, for Tasuki has soon gone into descriptions of the Hokkan capital city. He tells me how Nuriko cut his beautiful long purple hair off, and how the sky opened up and snow suddenly began to fall. Once again, I'm fascinated by the description of something I have never seen before. I curl myself into my lover and ask him to tell me everything he could remember about the snow-the way it felt on his skin, its taste, its smell. He smiles again, closing his eyes to try to bring back his memories, and describes the way the flakes swirled in the air around him, the cool, refreshing scent the breeze took on, and the tingling sensation of the tiny white flakes when they would fall on his cheeks.  
  
And then the soft smile on his face fades away into a solemn expression so regretful and full of mourning that I can't help but gaze at him in compassion. I sit up again, knowing that what he is about to tell me is one of the many things that made his demeanor so somber when he returned to me. I look down at him and gently place my hand on his chest, pressing my palm down into the dark fabric of his overcoat until I can feel the deep pulse of his heart beneath his ribs. I feel his longing to tell me his sorrows just as I feel his beating heart.  
  
"Please," I whisper, trying to console him with the softness of my voice, "You need to tell me, Tasuki."  
  
He doesn't reply to that; he already knows it just as I do. He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.  
  
"Come here, Tansho," he says to me, opening his arms and beckoning to me to lie in them again, "I have sad news."  
  
My heart sinks low into my chest until I'm sure it's among my bowels. I draw in a ragged breath and slowly release it as I lower myself into his embrace again, nearly on the verge of terror. Is our priestess dead? Is Konan doomed? The questions tangle together inside my head ruthlessly.  
  
But instead of telling me the sad news, he continues on with his story, no doubt shortening it somewhat. In a matter of a few minutes, I hear the adventures of Hokkan and Sairo--Nuriko's defeat of Ashitare, the discovery and loss of the Genbu shinzaho, the journey to Sairo and the unbelievable events that followed after their arrival. When he tells me about his unusual stay in the desert and how his mind had been stolen from reality, I'm once again disturbed by its eerie resemblance to my dream. Refusing to allow my mind to make assumptions, I listen closely as he recounts the numerous battles for the life of the priestess, the appearance of two Byakko warriors, the discovery and loss of the Byakko shinzaho. When he finally reveals the sorrowful story of the Priestess of Byakko that I have been longing to hear, my heart clenches in my chest. To be separated from the one you love for so long seems utterly impossible to me. But it is the telling of the magnificent and frightening summoning of the beast god Seiryu that makes my skin turn cold. I am overwhelmed by the time he becomes silent again, my mind a rolling ocean of thoughts, images, words, and fears. But what has caused him so much grief? What has he failed to tell me?  
  
His arm tightens around my shoulders, and I realize that he has saved the saddest words for last. My eyes gaze upwards to look at him, unsure and anxious. And the way he returns my gaze makes me cringe.  
  
"Chiriko died in Sairo, Tansho. He sacrificed himself to save us."  
  
The words sting me like a scorpion. No. No-not the little boy! He was only a child, barely on the verge of becoming a man. How could a child as small as he was have the courage to sacrifice himself for the sake of his companions? I close my eyes to keep from weeping. I barely knew Chiriko; I spoke maybe a few sentences with him, and yet my heart aches for him as if he had been my own son. Poor Tasuki. How he must have grieved for the little boy. Once again, I'm taken aback by the mysterious similarity between his journey and my dream. I had seen him crouched over the body of a child; could that child have been Chiriko? Was Tasuki sobbing so pitifully for his death? Still refusing to admit to anything, I pull myself tighter to his body, hoping that my presence may be able to comfort him.  
  
I am unprepared for what he tells me next.  
  
"And-Nuriko was killed in the battle with Ashitare. We buried him on a mountain in Hokkan."  
  
My eyes crack open, but do not see anything. I stare blindly and dumbly into nothingness. No. No. My mind repeats this over again and again as if it were a chant. Nuriko, as well as the child? I heave a deep, painful sigh as my heart cracks in two-split down the middle by the news of Chiriko's death, and entirely broken apart by the news of Nuriko's. I barely knew him as well, but his kindness towards me was something I could never have forgotten. And now hearing the news of his death, I can't help but grieve for a friend.  
  
Suddenly, I hear Tasuki's tortured sigh and feel wetness on my forehead. I lean back and gaze at my beloved warrior-who is weeping so woefully that I feel my own tears well up in my eyes. Streams of tears trail thickly down his tanned face, and he merely stares into the emptiness of my room, his eyes blind to everything. I move to cover him with my body, pressing my soft breasts to his chest and my forehead to his. And as he weeps unabashedly, I begin to weep as well, unable to keep my emotions in check. The news of my friends' deaths and the mere sight of seeing my beloved man trembling in sorrow beneath me is enough to wound my soul forever. He grips me to him, holding onto me as if I were his one comfort in this world, and I am more than willing to let the touch of my skin console him. I reach out to him with my thoughts, telling him how much I adore him and how I promise to never leave his side again.  
  
So my dreams were true then. It would be pointless and foolish to try to deny that they weren't. Is it possible that my mind connected with his even though an ocean and two empires separated us? I dreamt of his near-death in the sea, his enchantment in the desert, his deep grieving for Nuriko and Chiriko. Is it possible that his soul called out for mine at those times? Did he long for me at those times?  
  
We weep together for a long time, holding each other and being comforted by each other's presence. I wish I could do more for him, but when I finally hear the sounds of his mourning trail into silence, I understand that by simply allowing myself to be his comfort, I have done more for him that I know. He takes a deep breath as if to cleanse himself of his sadness for a few moments and I am glad to hear the rhythm of his breath return to normal.  
  
"I thought of you, Tansho," he whispers to me, "I thought of you all the time." I smile gently. The irony is almost supernatural.  
  
"I thought of you, too."  
  
It seems that he has told all there is to tell. His travels have ended and he is with me again. He is in mourning for his lost friends and fellow warriors, but time heals easily and efficiently. We will leave this place soon and go home, on the mountain, away from the stink and the noise of the city. I mold myself happily into his arms, but instead of relaxing with me, I feel his muscles tense. Once again, I do not expect what he tells me next.  
  
"Tansho, that's not the end of the bad news," he replies softly, his voice hesitant and unsure of itself after so much mourning.  
  
I sit up again, almost unbelieving. Impossible! What else could have happened on that damned mission? It already seems as if his entire world has collapsed on top of him-and me as well. He sits up from his reclined position as well, flustered by my unexpected action. He runs his hand down the length of my arm to try to calm me before continuing.  
  
"After Seiryu was summoned and we returned to Konan, Suzaku was sealed away from us," he replies calmly, hoping to ease my shock. I look at him, noticing that his eyes are slightly red from crying, but I can see only determination set in his features. Yes, something has happened that will change the course of events from now on-not only for the two of us, but for all of Konan as well. I can feel it as plainly as I feel his hand still mindlessly caressing the sensitive skin at the inside of my elbow. "And because of this, the surviving warriors, myself included, have lost their marks as celestial warriors--as well as our powers."  
  
Shocked, I jerk unintentionally from his gentle grasp and grab his arm, pulling the black sleeve of his overcoat up to his elbow. I do the same to the white undershirt beneath. His forearm is bare. Even when he was calm and his mark wasn't ignited by his anger (or his passion, in our case), the place where his character appeared could always be identified by a slight discoloration of his skin, like an old scar. But the skin of his arm is as smooth and perfect as the skin of his face. I stare in disbelief for several long moments. It's true. He is no longer a warrior of Suzaku. He's a man. A normal man just as I am a normal woman.  
  
My disbelieving gaze trails upward to meet his eyes. I am unable to offer any words to him, whether they be questions or condolences. I only look at him as if I myself have been defeated. But I am wrong to think that this is all he has left to tell me. I nearly fall senseless into his arms when he reveals to me the last of his ill news.  
  
"Konan has declared war on Kutou. The others and I must leave the day after tomorrow to go to battle," he says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want me to hear the words.  
  
I feel myself losing control over my body, but I am somehow able to keep myself from collapsing into his embrace. Instead, I allow my head to drop clumsily into the palms of my waiting hands, where it rests heavily. Dear gods, no. Not again. Not again. No.  
  
Even when he moves closer to me to wrap his arms around my shoulders and pull me into his lap like a child, I am unable to be comforted. I cannot cry. I have cried all that my proud spirit will allow me to. No, it is over now. It is finished. I have lived for as long as the gods have ordained me to. I might not have lived well, but I have lived. I have had the great honor of knowing this gentle, courageous, passionate man who now rocks me carefully in his arms like a mother would do to her baby. And that is the last thing I plan to do. He is leaving me again to do his duty as a warrior of his priestess and god and as a citizen of his country. And although it pains me to think of it, he will no doubt give his life for those who will live on after him. I will not try to stop him, for I have no right. He was a celestial warrior and a man of Konan long before he fell in love with me. He will go, and I will stay here once again. But, unfortunately, there is nothing left for me here. My dearest friends are well protected by the emperor's decree and I will leave with them his seal as well. And then I will lie down in my bed and go to sleep forever with the help of opium, as much as I can buy in the dark streets of the capital. What happens afterward is little of my concern, for I will be in the company of those who came before me. My mother. I smile in spite of myself. Yes, it will be nice to see her again after so long.  
  
I am lost in my dark yet comforting thoughts and do not hear Tasuki's next words. How ironic that they will change the plans I have for myself so drastically.  
  
"Tansho," he whispers again, seeing that I didn't hear him before. I am jolted from the depths of my mind by the sound of his powerful voice. I turn my face to him and instantly wonder why a slight smile is spread across his features. What in hell is there to smile about? He smiles wider when he sees the mixed expression of confusion and indignation on my face. "Tansho," he repeats, "Didn't you hear me? I said that I'm taking you away from here. You're coming back to the palace with me to stay until the war is over. You, and the other women, as well."  
  
Realization hits me like lightening from the sky, jolting me from the dreary thoughts I had been thinking just moments earlier. I slowly sit up straight in his lap, motionless and shocked to the point that I am unable to speak. He smiles and kisses me on the cheek, hoping to wake me from my comatose state. In a way, his kiss does bring part of me back to life. I find the strength to move and lift my hands to cradle his face in my palms.  
  
"Aren't you happy?" he asks, still smiling like a little boy. "You'll be totally safe there. And you'll have Koi and Okichi and the others for company. And, when I come back, we'll leave for Mount Reikaku as soon as possible. Nothing will stop us."  
  
"Shingen." I don't even realize that I have spoken that horrid name until the acidic aftertaste of it begins to burn my tongue.  
  
Tasuki's smile transforms from gleeful to triumphant in a matter of seconds. "I already have a signed decree from His Highness declaring your freedom from Shingen, as well as the release of the others from his employment if they wish to accompany you."  
  
It has all been taken care of. Everything that will ensure that my life will continue on in complete comfort and care has been written and signed by the emperor himself. And Tasuki has overseen it all. Even the release of the other women. Everything.  
  
It is far too much or me to take, but I am still somehow able to lean my body into his and lay a soft, gentle kiss on his lips in return for all that my beloved has done for me. My kiss is my thanks to him for loving me and for saving my life. And when he smiles and embraces me as if I were about to vanish into nothingness, I know with all my heart that it is beyond enough.  
  
A/N: Well, look's like some major things are about to happen, huh? ^_^ It's about time that Tansho and the other ladies get a break, don't ya think? Well, I hate to say this, but it might be awhile before I can post the next chapter. I'm getting ready to move out of my parents' house and into my new lake house. And the "week of welcome" at my college is gonna keep me busy as hell (plus I'm gonna have to start looking for a job). And then, the week after that I'm starting classes! ^_^ So, as you can see, I'm ass-hole deep in stuff I've gotta do right now. I do promise, however that I'll get the next chapter up as soon as humanly possible!! ^_^ OK?! See ya all later.  
  
Oh, and please do forgive me for not replying to your reviews! I'm so sorry but I just couldn't find time to sit down and re-read and answer them. I'm so sorry! But thankyou so much for them, guys! I love you all! 


	42. The Changing of Lives

A/N: Hey, ya'll! Guess what, no warnings!! ^_^ That's a first, huh? Well, maybe a small warning for the foul mouths of the whores and a little bit of love between Tasuki and Tansho. ^_^  
  
Chapter 42  
  
The Changing of Lives  
  
"I have to return to the palace tonight to continue preparations for battle," he replies, "But I'll be back tomorrow morning to collect you and the others. You must be packed and ready to leave as soon as possible. I'll have carriages with me to transport you and the other women, as well as all your belongings."  
  
I look up at him. "And the decree?" I ask, anxiety evident in my voice.  
  
"All I have to do is present it to Shingen, and he has no choice but to release you. Imperial guards are going to accompany me to arrest him if he dares to resist the emperor's orders," he answers before my doubt can burrow any deeper inside of me.  
  
"It all seems so simple," I remark quietly, lowering my head.  
  
"It's simple," Tasuki replies, "You already have your freedom, Tansho; all you have to do now is claim it." He lets a sudden grin slip onto his face, and I watch in interest as he reaches down beside my bed and pulls up a bundle of folded fabric. "I almost forgot," he replies, sitting the bundle between us on the bed, "I brought you some presents."  
  
I smile and draw in an excited breath. "Really?" I ask, "Tasuki, you know you didn't have to."  
  
"But I wanted to," he answers quickly, carefully unfolding the bundle of un-dyed cotton. "I bought this in Touran, the first city that we visited in Hokkan." He lowers his eyes as if remembering something, and I wonder silently to myself if this was perhaps the place where our dear friend Nuriko was killed. I don't ask though; I don't want to deepen his grief any more than it already is.  
  
He stands next to my bed and curls his fingers around whatever is hidden inside the folded bundle of cloth, lifting it and allowing it to unfurl in front of me. I gasp and clasp my hands over my mouth to keep from shrieking in delight. Tasuki holds the most beautiful coat that I have ever seen, a perfectly tailored overcoat the color of the deepest part of the ocean. Silver fox fur lines the collar and hems of the sleeves, as well as the bottom hem. Polished silver clasps line one side of the coat.  
  
"Tasuki!" I whisper between my fingers, "It's gorgeous!"  
  
Obviously thrilled that I am pleased with his gift, he urges me to get up and try it on. I stand up and turn my back to him, allowing him to slip the coat onto my arms and over my shoulders. I turn around and button the silver clasps that begin at my right breast and continue on down well past my knee; the hem of the coat itself easily grazes my calf. I look up and smile broadly at him, but then change the delight on my face to teasing suspicion.  
  
"You didn't steal it, did you?" I joke, raising a questioning eyebrow.  
  
"Tansho!" He cries in mock chastisement, "You mean to tell me that you suspect I didn't buy this for you with my own hard-earned money-but rather stole it without a second though?"  
  
I lift my fingers to the feather-soft fox fur lining the collar and stroke it suggestively. My bare feet take small, dainty steps forward until I'm pressed to him, my eyes gazing at his mischievously. "That's exactly what I suspect, my dear," I reply softly, "Or did you forget that you were once a bandit before you became a warrior?"  
  
He grins and grabs me in a swift hug, pressing me to him so closely that I feel the steady, smooth beat of his heart. He leans down and grazes my cheek with his lips, his breath tickling my skin, causing me to smile sweetly. "Of course I haven't forgotten," he tells me, "I was actually thinking of the mountain when I bought this for you." He pulls away slowly and grins down at me, his little fangs gleaming in the dim light of my room. "It gets cold as hell on that damn mountain during the winter."  
  
I giggle softly and pull him back into my arms. I've missed the touch of him so much, the warmth of his chest, the smoothness of his lips, the softness of his fingers. He's such a comforting presence. With him I feel safe and alive, two things that seem to have evaded me for years. I breathe in his scent-rain, earth, and snow-and I sigh contentedly into his shoulder.  
  
"That's not all I brought back," he says, wrapping one arm around me to keep me close and reaching his free hand back into the partially folded bundle. He retrieves a small satin bag, its opening pulled tight by a drawstring, and places it in my waiting hands. I look up at him happily, eager to see what else my beloved had brought for me. I pull the drawstring open and reach my fingers inside. They make contact with metal, smooth and cool to the touch. My face twisted in curiosity, I pull my hand out again and gaze at the lovely golden hair clip grasped gently between my fingers. I gasp again, even louder than when I saw the beautiful azure overcoat. My eyes dart to my lover's, who's looking on in pride at choosing a piece that has obviously taken my breath away. I return my attention to the beauty of the hair clasp lying in the palm of my hand. A flawless ruby twice the size of my thumbnail, flanked on either side by smaller identical rubies, lies embedded within the front of the golden clasp. Encircling the jewels is an intricate design of grapevines and leaves.  
  
"Tasuki," I whisper, my eyes locked on the brilliant blood-red jewels, "I shouldn't have this. This is worth more than anything I've ever owned in my life. I can't accept this." He doesn't allow me time to try to shove the hair clasp back into its satin bag. His fingers take it gently from my trembling grip and lift it to his mouth, where he delicately bites down on it to free his hands. I feel his fingers curl into my dark mahogany hair and carefully separate a section of it above my right ear. His fingers pluck the golden clasp from his teeth and slip it into my hair, where he gently presses it until it closes firmly.  
  
"There," he says, stepping back to admire me in my attire. "You forget, Tansho. You belong to no one but yourself now, and someone like you should have a hundred of these, not just one."  
  
He has always known the exact words to say to me to make me believe in myself, to make me understand my worth. I realize how much I have missed him and the power and tenderness of his voice. I feel so utterly safe with him that it seems perfectly logical to think nothing could ever harm me as long as I'm by his side. I lift my eyes again to look at him, but when I see his face, I know that it is time for him to leave me again. His eyes are sad and his hands move to grip my fingers tightly, telling me he has to go even though he doesn't want to. I smile to try to encourage him, to try to radiate the warmth of my soul into his.  
  
"Thank you," I reply gently, my heart showing itself in the depth of my voice. He doesn't know that I am thanking him for both the coat and ruby hair clip, as well as returning to me and delivering me from my misery and loneliness. I turn and walk slowly to my door, knowing that he's following me, knowing that we will part again until the morning. I stop at my door, my heart heavy. His eyes linger on me when he reaches my side, and suddenly I feel myself drawn into his embrace by his strong hands pulling my shoulders. He presses his lips to mine unexpectedly, kissing me deeply and fiercely. Stunned, I make a soft sound of bewilderment before I quickly begin to familiarize again with the feel of his mouth on mine. Suddenly overcome with my own desire, I bring my stunned body to life and snake my arms around to his back. I can feel the firm touch of his hands traveling up and down my back, lingering in my hair, then slipping playfully down to my backside, making me smile into his lips. I softly rake my fingernails down his back, bearing down harder when I remember the thick fabric of his overcoat separates his bare back from my touch. He brings one of his hands to my face to caress my cheek with his fingertips before moving to cradle the nape of my neck with his palm, deepening our lustful kiss. I feel him part his lips slightly, and I'm quick to do the same, and suddenly we're kissing each other as we should be. As if we haven't seen each other for months. As if our bodies ache for the bare touch of the other's skin. As if we can hardly keep our passion from erupting and causing us to collapse on the floor of my bedroom and ravishing each other.  
  
Suddenly, both of us begin to laugh gently. It starts with soft smiles and chuckles within pauses of our fierce kisses, but it soon escalades into fits of laughter that make us both grip each other in order to keep from doubling over. It doesn't take us long to realize why Tasuki was suddenly overcome with desire, and why both of us were suddenly overcome with the urge to break into laughter. It has been far too long since we kissed each other like lovers do, and far too long since we laughed together like friends do. Far too long. And our hearts knew and took care of it for us.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he whispers to me, pressing his forehead to mine affectionately.  
  
"I'll be waiting for you," I answer, giving him one last sly smile.  
  
I quietly open the door and peek over the banister to see if anyone is coming up the staircase. When all's clear, I motion with a tilt of my head for him to go. As quietly as he came, he treads softly down the slim hall and disappears inside the door that leads to the back of the tavern.  
  
Once sure that he's safely gone, I retreat back inside my bedroom to think over all the information that my returned lover has given me. There is so much happening now. Konan is about to go to war. My life is about to entirely turn around after so long of seeming to be stuck deep inside a hell pit. I am in a state of shock for several minutes, simply sitting on my bed with my hands in my lap, thinking of everything waiting in the future for me. My fingers glide mindlessly over the fox fur caressing my neck and the bejeweled hair clip above my ear. I'm not really sure how much time has passed when I'm finally able to collect myself and get up from my bed. I must speak to the other women as soon as possible. Their lives are about to change right along with mine.  
  
I slip out of the ocean-colored coat and fold it carefully inside my wardrobe, then pull the golden hair clasp from my hair and place it reverently on my vanity table with the rest of my jewelry.  
  
I open my door and step out onto the balcony. Below is the hubbub of the tavern, hazy in a dense layer of smoke from pipes, and filled with the hoarse conversation and laughter of customers. Every now and then, the teetering giggle or loud guffaw of one of the women will break though the noise of the tavern and reach me at my vantage point on the balcony. I search through the misty smoke cloud that constantly lingers in the air and catch sight of Koi's bright golden hair, pulled back from her face and decorated with ebony pins. I wait for her to lose interest in her present client as he nudges her rudely with his elbow in her breast, earning him a cross look from her. Finally, after several moments, she rolls her eyes skyward in sheer irritation and I manage to catch her gaze. She smiles when she sees me, happy to see that I'm up and moving around. I motion with my hands for her to stay put, then somehow manage through mouthing and making more hand signals to tell her to come to my room after the tavern is empty. After what seems an eternity, she finally understands my full meaning and gets up to find the other women and relay my message. I return to my room to think over how I will explain this very delicate situation to them.  
  
They all have ties to this place, though not as tight as mine since they are free women and have the advantage of leaving at any time they wish. But it will be difficult for them nonetheless to pack up and move from a place that has been their home and livelihood for years. I especially worry about Asako. It is possible she could decline to come with us when I relay my news to them. She feels a bond with Shingen similar to my own before his and my relationship soured after the arrival of Tasuki. But I cannot see myself spending the rest of my prime years inside a brothel, and no matter how mild my life had been before, it changed all for the better when I met Tasuki. With his help, I am about to escape the life of a whore forever, never to return. I am only seventeen, now close to my eighteenth year. I'm still young, though not pure in body and mind as most women my age. I believe that I can still have children, though I hope never again to experience the horror of losing one that had only just begun life inside me. I doubt I could bear that a second time.  
  
I pray that my friends will be able to find lives for themselves after they are released from this hellhole. I'm sure they'll all be more than willing to accompany me to the palace, though I do expect to have to encourage Asako a bit. I sit for a moment in silence and imagine them with husbands, with children, living in a nice little house of the outskirts of the capital or a small townhouse within its walls. I see Okichi bending over a basketful of laundry, happily picking each item of clothing up and draping them from a line in her yard as her children, their pearl-colored hair blowing in the breezes, run and play around her legs. I see Koi, a baby propped on her hip with ocean-blue eyes like hers, tending carefully to a boiling pot of dumplings as her husband sneaks up behind her and playfully pecks her on the cheek. I see Misa, her deep brown hair spilling into her face as she bargains with merchants in the market, her hands on her supple hips in the stance she always takes when bargaining, her dark- haired son at her side copying her every move in jest, earning a glare from his mother. I see Asako at a laboring woman's bedside, tutoring her daughters in the ways of the midwife, showing them where to place their hands and what herbs to mix together. I know that I see only fragments of a future that could be, but the simple thought of them is enough to make a smile spread across my face.  
  
I'm still smiling when my door creaks open and Koi's delicate face appears. "Tansho?" her soft voice replies as she takes a step into my room, "You wanted to talk to us?"  
  
I see the others behind her, eager to get in my room and see what is so important that I couldn't wait until the tavern closes.  
  
"Yes, come in and sit down with me for a moment. I have some news for you-" I pause, still unsure of exactly how I will relay Tasuki's wonderful news to them. Should I just tell them that they are coming with me to the palace, or should I ask if they would like to accompany me? Should I tell them about the war even though word of it has yet to reach the capital? My mind shuts down on me for a moment before Okichi's melodious voice awakens me.  
  
"Tansho, are you still sore? Would you like a compress for your face?" she asks, looking over my face carefully to see if a bruise remains from Shingen's fist. I shake my head and thank her for worrying about me.  
  
They seem hesitant to just sit and listen to me. Asako strides back and forth across the planked floor, her bare feet slapping the smooth wood; and Misa hovers at my bedside, unsure of whether to sit or stand; but Koi and Okichi seem quite happy to plop down beside me on my bed and tuck their feet under them.  
  
"What's wrong?" Koi asks, almost in a whisper, "What's happened, Tansho?" The tone of her voice obviously carries worry upon it. I'm quick to place my hand on her forearm to comfort her before I begin to talk.  
  
But Asako cuts me off before I can even open my mouth.  
  
"It's him, isn't it?" she asks from across my bedroom, her eyes shadowed partially by her long, gray hair. "He's come back from wherever it is he went all those months ago."  
  
I stare at her, my eyes unblinking. Did she see him coming to or from my room? How else could she know?  
  
"Yes," I answer. I hear Koi and Okichi draw in shocked breaths, and out of the corner of my eye I see Misa cover her lips with her fingers. "How did you know, Asako?" I see no reason to try to keep it from her or the others; it is the foundation of what I'm about to tell them.  
  
"It's been weeks-months-since I've seen you smile like there's nothing wrong in the world," she answers me. I search for a hint of disdain in her voice, but I'm both dumbfounded and joyful when I hear nothing but pure amusement. Happy amusement, not cruel. She's grinning at me, her eyes lit up from somewhere within her. "I know that you've seen him. You would never smile like that if you hadn't."  
  
I lower my eyes to let her know that she's found me out. But her laugh makes me lift my gaze again, and I see her leaning against my door laughing heartily as if she hasn't laughed in years. "Don't' look so damn sad!" she replies, "You're such a melodramatic!"  
  
I smile again after hearing that. I can't remember a time when Asako has laughed like this. It makes me feel as if a burden has been lifted off my bones. It makes me feel ready to tell them the news that will change our lives.  
  
"That's why you wanted to talk to us, isn't it?" Misa asks when Asako's mirthful laughter has quieted and she has joined us at my bedside.  
  
Once again, I see no reason to procrastinate. I nod my head and smile faintly. "There is good news and bad news, though. But isn't there always?" I reply. I get a few slight chuckles from them.  
  
"Tasuki has told me something that is probably going to change all of our lives very suddenly and dramatically," I say bluntly. I know no other way to tell them gently. I only know the way my heart tells me. "Konan is going to war in two days."  
  
I watch their faces go from eager to horrified, but Asako keeps her constant nonchalant demeanor about her somehow. She raises a hand to her lips in thought, as if she knew this was coming. I knit my eyebrows together, wondering what she knows.  
  
"I've suspected this for awhile now," she remarks when she sees my inquisitive face, "Rumors fly around that tavern like bottles of sake." I nod my head in understanding. Of course a few of our customers would know about the gathered Kutou forces on Konan's borders. "Two days, you say?" she asks. I nod. "I don't understand, Tansho. The war will be all the way on the eastern borders. Our armies are huge. There is no way the Kutou forces could get to the capital. How does this affect us?"  
  
I smile broadly before I make the next announcement. I expect a range of reactions when I relay the last part of my news, and I hope that I'm ready for them. "Tasuki has requested from the emperor that I be freed from Shingen's possession. I'm leaving tomorrow for the palace-and if you wish to, all of you have been invited by the emperor himself to come with me and live there."  
  
Silence fills my bedroom like the thick smoke in the tavern. I believe that if I reach my hand out into the air, I'm sure I'll be able to feel it there, floating around us. Koi is the first one I hear. Her breath leaks out from her dainty lips as if she had been underwater for several minutes. She then lifts her head and looks me straight in the eye.  
  
"The palace," she says. It's not a question; it's a statement. "We can come with you if we want to? No questions. Nothing in exchange. We can just-go with you?" The hope in her eyes is almost too much to look at full on. But I don't revert my gaze; I keep my eyes locked on hers. I smile warmly.  
  
"You can go with me."  
  
"The emperor said this? There's no written documents? You just took his word?" Okichi asks. Even though she seems skeptical, the hope is evident in her eyes as well.  
  
"Tasuki has the written decree in his possession. He's bringing it tomorrow when he comes for us," I answer, making sure to us the word "us" instead of just "me". Okichi's face looses all doubt. Her eyes shine with the beginnings of her tears. She and Koi look at each other silently as if they could collapse into each other's arms.  
  
I turn to Misa, who stands motionless by my side. Her arms are crossed and her head is lowered. "Shingen," she says quietly, "He can't keep us here. He doesn't own us-" She pauses and lifts her gaze to catch mine, and I see tears shining in her dark eyes. "But he's not going to just watch you walk away, Tansho-especially if you have us walking beside you."  
  
I expected a bit of skepticism from them all, but the worry in Misa's voice is so heartbreaking that I have no other choice than to push myself from my bed and wrap my arms around her. She holds onto me as if I would float away from her. "He's not going to let you go, Tansho," she sobs into my shoulder, collapsing on the bed beside me. Okichi moves closer to us to gently caress our friend's back.  
  
Misa has never been close to me, not like the others. Ever since that day that I came here five years ago, a terrified girl of twelve, I never felt much warmth from Misa. She has always been kind and thoughtful, eager to help me and comfort me just as all the others have. But she always seemed to keep her distance from me for some reason. I have always felt a presence around her like a stone wall, keeping just outside it. But now as we hold each other, I feel so much warmth seeping from her skin onto mine that I bury my face in her nut-brown hair and try to comfort myself as well as her. Finally, after five long years I have bonded with my dear Misa. All those years ago when I though my young life had ended, these women came to my aid. Asako became my mother, Koi my confidant, Okichi my wisdom, and now Misa has become my deepest comfort.  
  
"He'll let me go, Misa," I whisper into her hair, "He has no other choice. It has been written on parchment by the Emperor of Konan himself. I belong to myself now, and no one else. I'm leaving this place for good." She lets go of me, her body trembling slightly at the sudden wake of emotion that has passed through the both of us.  
  
"Then I will come with you," she says quietly, her small lips smiling brightly. Her eyes shine like the stars beyond my window.  
  
"I will too," Koi says, laying her hand upon mine and squeezing my fingers. "You've been my dearest friend for five years now, and I won't watch you go anywhere without me."  
  
I suddenly feel the heat of Okichi's smooth palm on my cheek. "You're saving us all, you realize this don't you?" she asks me gently. "I know that you had the chance to stay at the palace that night that you ran away to follow after him-after Tasuki. But you refused the emperor's offer and came back to stay with us."  
  
I gape at her and grab her hand away from my cheek to grip in my fingers. How did she know? I never told any of them all that happened that night and the morning after. Okichi sees the confusion on my face and is quick to laugh at me and explain.  
  
"Tokizo told me," she replies, smiling coyly, "He's a very nice young man, Tansho. I'm surprised he pursued me instead of trying to steal you away from Tasuki." I gasp and let go of her hand, earning a playful giggle from her. Is it possible that Okichi has taken Tokizo as a lover? How could this have happened without my sensing it at some point?  
  
"How long have you been sneaking off together?!" Koi demands good- naturedly. I'm quite curious as well, and make sure to give Okichi a poke in the ribs for keeping her affair with the palace guard a secret. The little fox of a hussy!  
  
"How long?!" Koi and I demand in unison. Okichi just gives each of us another coy smile, obviously quite amused and pleased with herself.  
  
"Nearly two months now," she answers, pretending that it's not of much importance. "Like I said, Tansho, he's a very very nice young man!"  
  
I grin at her and give her a playful slap on the thigh. "So I guess this means you're coming with me, too?" I ask hopefully.  
  
"Of course! Why in hell would I pass up the chance to be around my lovely Tokizo night and day?!"  
  
Another fit of playful laughter follows. I feel so light, so free of everything that I wonder if I'll ever be sorrowful again. My friends are coming with me. They'll be safe from harm entirely now on, and they'll be rid of the Shingen and the damned Black Dove forever. I'm almost ready to announce that they should all hurry to their rooms to pack for tomorrow when I suddenly realize that Asako is still standing at my bedside, silent and unmoving. My smile fades away like the sun at dusk. I gaze at her with knit eyebrows, wondering why she is so quiet. I expect the same answer from her. My dear Asako would not want to see me just leave her behind. I'm sure that she's coming with me. But then I hear her voice rise above the cheerful, eager conversations of the other women, and my heart freezes in my chest.  
  
"I'm not coming with you, Tansho" she says gently, lifting her eyes to meet mine momentarily before walking to the door of my bedroom and returning to the smoke-filled air of the tavern below.  
  
A/N: Hey there all! Well, it wasn't as long as I'd expected it to be before I posted my next chapter. Good for ya'll, huh? ^_^ I've had to come home for a couple of days to take care of some appointments and pick up some stuff I left, and I thought to myself, "Jen, you really should give your readers a break and give them a new chapter." I'm presently having trouble with the phone line and internet at my new house, so that's what's gonna hinder me for the next week or so. But I promise that I'll get back on track as soon as possible, OK?!  
  
P.S. Thanks so much for the great, lovely reviews! ^_^ And I would really love to personally answer all of them, but I'm pressed for time. I do remember one question where one of you asked how many more chapters this story is gonna be. Well, I am presently beginning work on chapter 54, and I'm trying my damned hardest not to go over 60 (though, I originally hoped it wouldn't go over 50-but that was shot to shit.)  
  
Thanks again! Love you all! ^_^ 


	43. My Two Mothers

Chapter 43  
My Two Mothers  
  
"Asako!" I call out after her. But she is gone, her moon dust- colored hair fluttering loosely behind her.  
  
She cannot stay here alone! Shingen will unleash all of his anger, frustration, and embarrassment upon her once the rest of us walk out of Black Dove, flanked by my lover and the Imperial Guards. She'll live the rest of her life crushed under his hatred for me.  
  
"Asako!' I yell again, jumping up from my bed and leaving the other women staring blankly after me, their lips parted and hands clenched in disbelief of Asako's announcement. I fling my door open and see her walking calmly down the balcony hall to the staircase that leads back down into the tavern. I call out her name again, but she ignores me. Refusing to give her up to the smoke-filled air and morbid life of the Black Dove, I race after her, my unbound hair flying wildly behind me.  
  
I reach her just before she sets her small, bare foot on the top step of the staircase. Not knowing what else to do, I dart my hand out and grab her wrist as her fingertips lightly press on the banister. "No," I say bluntly, "You're not staying here alone."  
  
She turns her face to look at me, her hooded eyes testament to her sleepless nights, her slightly crooked nose testament to her years at the mercy of brutal men, her shimmering gray hair testament to the life that has forced her to age beyond her twenty-eight years. And yet there is no other woman besides my departed mother whom I believe is more beautiful than Asako.  
  
She lifts her free hand and rests it on mine, gently prying my fingers from around her wrist. I hold tight and pull her away from the curious stares of the customers lounging at the base of the staircase. She allows me to guide her to the dimness of the balcony hall, but her face remains blank of all emotions. I realize that she is trying to seem indifferent to me. Unaffected, I let her wrist go and take both her hands in mine. I press her knuckles to my lips and kiss them softly.  
  
"You can't stay here alone, Asako," I reply quietly, my eyes downcast to study her slightly callused palms and chipped fingernails. "I can't leave you behind."  
  
"My life is here, Tansho," she whispers back, pulling her hands from mine to lift my face with the tips of her fingers. "What life could I have away from here? The one I had before I came to the Black Dove? You would want me to return to that?" I frown at how she has twisted my words around. It is so like her to do that at a time she feels cornered, at a time when she knows that even though she is my senior by eleven years, I am the one who's right.  
  
Asako once told me about her childhood. But only once, and never mentioned it again. She sympathized with the sorrowful circumstances that had brought me to the Black Dove, and one night, when there was no moon in the sky to spy on us, she let me curl in her lap in front of the kitchen hearth and told me about the years before she became a whore. "My father died from the liver disease not long after I was born. He drank himself to death I suppose you could say," she began, her lean, muscular arms squeezing me gently, "My elder sister married young, when she was only thirteen, and died in childbirth before her sixteenth birthday. My elder brother went away one day not long after Father's death. My mother always told me she last saw him walking in the direction of the north, and that he not once glanced over his shoulder. My two youngest brothers died before they could ever reach the end of their first year; one from the consumption, the other from evil spirits that penetrated our mother's womb and killed him before he could even be born. Mother died not long after she gave birth to my stillborn brother. I always thought it was from grief of losing all her family except for me, a useless girl who would rather lie on the beaches by the sea instead of helping her mother in the kitchen. Our neighbors helped to bury her, and told me that her weak heart was what had killed her. I thought they were fools; my mother's heart had beat like a warrior's. So, when they offered to take me in and care for me until I found a suitable husband, I refused." Her eyes had trailed off, and I had always wondered if she thought she had made a horrid mistake all those years ago.  
  
"I came to the capital when I left home; passing merchants had always told me it was the center of the universe," she continued. "But instead of finding a suitable job in the markets or at as a noble's maidservant, I wondered the city entranced by the golden buildings and richly dressed inhabitants. I soon ended up half-dead from malnutrition and fever, huddled in front of the Black Dove and begging for whatever the customers who passed by would give me. Shingen found me one day, my hair tangled, my face encrusted with dirt, my clothes stiff with my own sweat, and he picked me up and carried me inside. And I never found my way out again."  
  
I had listened to Asako's story with tears in my eyes. "Don't cry for me, little one," she had told me, "I am what I am on account of myself. No one forced me to sleep with men for my bed and food. It wasn't long after Shingen took me in that I realized the advantages of being a whore. I had more money than I had ever seen in my life, and I had plenty of food and a warm, clean bed. I adored it, and still do to some extent, I suppose."  
  
She had not been fourteen when Shingen had found her on the steps of the Black Dove, not much older than I was when I first entered the brothel. It was sometimes hard for me to think she had spent nearly fifteen years inside this place when I had spent only five.  
  
I look at my dear Asako with the same eyes I had five years ago- the innocent, untainted eyes of a girl-child who knows only what she sees to be true. And what I see now is a woman being slowly devoured and killed by the place she was once thankful for. In another five years, she will most likely be withered away and buried beneath the ground. I will not go to visit her grave before I should have to!  
  
"Asako!" I say sternly, "Of course I do not want you to return to the streets of the capital and beg for your survival. But I also do not want you to have to beg for your survival here as well."  
  
She sighs heavily and I try to take her hands in mine again, but she pulls away with a look of pure pity on her face. "You don't understand, Tansho. You're young, and you have someone who loves you and wants to save you from this place. I'm old, little one," she continues, addressing me as she once did long ago, "I'm old and have no other life waiting for me beyond these walls."  
  
I want to call her an idiot for describing herself as old. Even though her hair is as gray as an old woman's, and even though several of her teeth are missing, it is not hard to notice how high her breasts still perch on her chest, or how her hips still swing invitingly with every step she takes.  
  
"What life do you have remaining here?" I ask her harshly, grabbing her hands again even though she tries to keep them from my desperate grasp. I am ready to threaten her to make her come with me. I am ready to stay if she will go. "Answer me, Asako! If you can tell me why you're bound to this place then I will turn around now and leave tomorrow without asking again you to come with me!" My mind is slipping from logic. I'm panicked and afraid. I must save her, for I could not save my first mother. "Tell me, goddamn it!" I plead, my voice suddenly rising to that of a terrified child. I don't mean to yell at her so harshly, but I know no other way to stir her usually boisterous and fiery soul. I must make her see how much I love her. I must make her understand that I look at her and see my mother behind her eyes.  
  
"Because this is my home, Tansho!" she screams suddenly, her voice cracking like thunder. "My family is dead, I have no one, and Shingen gave me a home. He loves me Tansho, as he once loved you before you loved another and turned cold to him. And even though I am far from loving him, I could never leave the place that has been my home for the past fifteen years-even to go with the one I love with all my heart."  
  
My mind surges. She cannot be serious! "Asako!" I scream back at her, "This is not your home! This is no one's home! This place is lingering on the edges of hell and is about to fall straight into the fires! Shingen loves no one, Asako! He loves only this place because it's what pours money into his pockets!" I see her eyes close and her mouth twist in sorrow. I grip her hands tighter. "I want to take care of you; please, let me take care of you like you have taken care of me. You became my mother when Shingen brought me here; daughters always take care of their mothers, Asako." I pull her to me and throw my arms around her as if the action could keep us forever connected; then she would have other choice than to come with me. "If you love me like you say you do, Asako," I plead into her shimmering silver hair, "Then come with me."  
  
I feel her hands come to rest on my back, her fingers pressing into my skin affectionately. Her sobs echo though her lungs so hard that I can feel them. My dear second mother. My dear Asako.  
  
"I love you, Asako," I whisper gently to her, "I don't want to lose another mother."  
  
"You won't, little one," she answers, her breath warm on my cheek, "I will find a new home beyond the walls of the Black Dove-I will go with you even if you lead me to the gates of heaven or hell."  
  
So the gods will allow me to love this mother longer than my first. For this, my heart burns with gratefulness. Our days in the Black Dove tavern and brothel have come to an end, and by the time the sun rises to its noon zenith tomorrow, our backs will have been longed turned to this place.  
  
After the other women learn that Asako will be accompanying us also, the vivid, lighthearted atmosphere that had filled my room earlier returns. But there is no time to celebrate our departure. We must prepare for the morning when Tasuki will return for us with the emperor's decree and Imperial guards to escort us back to the palace. I send the women scurrying to their rooms to pack whatever they can, and I quickly begin my own preparations for my first day of true freedom since the day I left my home five years ago.  
  
I open my wardrobe doors and remove piles of silks and other fabrics that Shingen had given me as gifts when I suddenly became enthusiastic about my work not so long ago. I throw them on the floor, not intending to take them or the boxes of jewelry heaped on my vanity table. I only plan on packing the azure overcoat that Tasuki gave to me and a few of the plain, loose gowns that I have lived in for the past five years. And perhaps I will place a few pieces of jewelry inside the lovely little wooden box that was Tasuki's first gift to me. I plan on wearing the golden hair clasp for my journey to the palace.  
  
I continue cleaning my wardrobe until I finally find what I'm looking for at the very bottom-the cedar chest that Shingen allowed me to bring on our trip to the capital, my new home. I had packed what few belongings I had and watched as Shingen lifted the chest easily with one hand. It had been my mother's when she had used it as a storage place for left over pieces of fabric she could never use in her tailor shop. She used to add the bits and pieces of lace and chiffon to my sleeves or the hems of my skirts, or use them to tie my hair in twisted buns and braids. I would now use this cedar chest to carry my few belongings to my new home-and from there, to the home on the mountain that I have dreamed about ever since my beloved appeared to me that night in the tavern, his hair licking the ink-black sky like fire. I smile, as I always do when I think of Tasuki.  
  
I grab the brass handles on either side of the chest, dull from the years that have passed, and heave it out of the bottom of my wardrobe. I plop it down on my bed and open the top to see if anything is still inside it after all these years. My breath leaves me when I see what is resting at its bottom. I step away from the cedar chest, my fingers flying to my mouth to hold back the sorrows of the past. But the treasure hidden at the bottom of the chest lures me to it as if it were a rare flower, and I can't stop myself from walking back to its edge and leaning over to gaze upon the thing hidden inside. It is a gown. A red silk gown neatly folded and protected from moths by the strong scent of the cedar wood, and it appears to be newly sewn.  
  
My heart convulses painfully behind my ribs. I know who made this dress and who placed it deep inside this old chest for me to find one day. By why did I never see it before? How has it hidden itself her for so long without being seen or disturbed?  
  
Fearful of touching a piece of my past, I keep my hands clenched at my sides even though the temptation to caress the gleaming silk of the gown is almost too much for me. It is obvious that my mother sewed this gown before her death. Just by studying the stitching of the sleeves and the fine silk of the bodice, I can tell that this is my mother's handiwork. Her stitches were so small they left no trace of their existence, and she would choose only the finest and most expensive silks for her gowns. And red was always her favorite color; she always told me that it made her brown hair and gray eyes come to life, even though I thought my mother's hair and eyes could never be more alive and vivid.  
  
My desire to touch something that my mother once touched with gentleness and precision overcomes me. I reach my hand down into the sweet- scented cedar chest and lightly run my fingertips over the glossy silk of the ruffled collar of the bodice. I must see what it looks like. Even though I fear that the moment I pull it from its hiding place it will disintegrate in my hands and become nothing but dust, my yearning to see a part of my mother outweighs all my uncertainties. I reach my other hand in and carefully scoop the silk gown into my palms as if it were a newborn infant. I lift it into my embrace and breathe in the scent of cedar that clings to it, hoping that a trace of my mother's exotic perfume might still linger on it. I then grasp the shoulders gently and hold it away from me to allow it to unfurl. The red silk of the bodice and skirt cascades from my fingers like a waterfall of blood. My breath leaves my body and I stare at the shimmering crimson dress in awe. No wonder my family was wealthy when I was young; my mother was a master of the needle.  
  
I recognize the fashion of the gown as that of nearly fifteen years ago, but the graceful flowing sleeves and plunging neckline of the bodice make it seem brand new. I realize that there is something missing from the dress, and I gently spread it out on my bed to peer inside the chest again. Ah, I think, now it's complete.  
  
I reach my hands back inside the chest and pull out a dazzling, knee- length golden satin girdle and blood-red thick sash embroidered with golded threads to tie it around the waist. Folded neatly beneath the ruffled girdle is the outer layer of the gown, a magnificent robe the color of the night embroidered with red and golden maple leaves. My hands fly to my lips once again at the sight of the gown in its entirety. It is the most gorgeous outfit that I have ever come across. Not even the courtesans of the emperor's seraglio could have a gown as perfect and breathtaking as this. I decide without a second thought that I will wear this tomorrow for my journey to the palace. Tasuki will not be able to take his eyes away from me, and Shingen will see how I have climbed into the sky and now loom over him like a goddess.  
  
I gently fold the garments up again and pile them on top of each other. I hurry to my vanity able to select a few pairs of earrings and three bracelets to pack inside the little wooden box that Tasuki gave to me before he left for Hokkan. I pick out two bracelets and pair of onyx and gold earrings to match my dress tomorrow, and separate them from the remainder of useless jewelry that Shingen gave to me not long ago. I pull out a few of my flimsy gowns and a pair of slippers from my wardrobe, settings aside a plain black pair to wear tomorrow. I take the dazzling blue coat that Tasuki gave me and fold it neatly inside the chest first. After I have packed the remainder of my few belongings inside the cedar chest on my bed, I carry the gown, girdle, and robe to the kitchen. When I first came here, Okichi taught me how to hang my clothes next to the hearth fire and sprinkle them lightly with water to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabrics. This dress has been resting inside my mother's chest for probably fifteen years or more, with only the strong scent of the cedar to keep it safe from hungry moths. The wrinkles are quite prominent in the garments, but they could never take away from its obvious beauty.  
  
I wait by the fire as my mother's magnificent gown flutters gently in the heat emitted from the hearth, and only when I'm certain that each piece of the apparel is as smooth as the skin of my breasts do I gather it gently into my arms and return to my room.  
  
A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry this update took forever, but I'm getting settled in my new house and getting used to my class schedules (they're a bitch ^_^) But I am trying my hardest to keep updating this story as faithfully as possible because I'm very loyal to it as well as to all of you! It may take a while for the next chapter to come out because I'm having some trouble uploading off my new lap top and have to figure out what the hell is going on.  
  
And thanks again for all the great reviews! They've been helping me revise and edit my chapters, so I hope you keep 'em coming! ^_^ Love you all, and I'll talk with you again soon! 


	44. The Light of the Sun

Chapter 44  
The Light of the Sun  
  
My night is restless and wasted on my anxiety. I try to sleep, but my eyes refuse to close long enough for me drift away. So I mostly lie in my bed, my eyes roaming the bedroom where I have slept for the past five years. I will not miss it.  
  
When I finally see the beginnings of sunrise through my window, I'm quick to get up and ready myself for the journey I'm about to make. I shuffle quietly down the balcony hall to the other women's rooms to wake them. Tasuki could come at sunrise or noon; we must be ready for him. They seem less anxious than me, which is understandable. They may have spent more years in this place, but they are not bound to it by an unpaid debt as I am. But that debt was paid long ago, and now I am ready to claim what is rightfully mine-myself.  
  
I'm glad to see they have all packed lightly; it is best not to bring too much of the Black Dove with us.  
  
"There will be a confrontation," Asako replies when I visit her room to wake her. She is sitting up in her bed, her hands resting nervously on her knees. I kneel in front of her and lay my head on her lap. Since last night I have felt a bond suddenly sprout between us; I crave her presence and the comforting sound of her voice as much as I crave my lover's.  
  
I know she speaks true; Shingen will not stand by silently and watch over half of his tavern's income walk out the doors. "Yes," I agree, "Most likely there will be." I pause to look up at her. "You're still coming, aren't you?"  
  
She smiles and rubs my cheek gently with her knuckles. "Of course, little one," she answers, smiling back at me, "I promised that I would follow you to the gates of heaven or hell. And I shall keep my word."  
  
"You don't have to stay with me, Asako," I say, "You're a free woman. You must find a life for yourself outside of this place. You must learn how to live again."  
  
"I suppose you're right," she replies, "Your wisdom has blossomed, Tansho. Perhaps I should seek your advice from now on."  
  
I smile and take her hand in mine, kissing her knuckles gently. To have a mother again is to begin life again. So much about her reminds me of my mother that sometimes I wonder how I can even look at Asako without breaking into tears.  
  
"I'll go prepare some breakfast," Asako tells me. I get up and follow her to the door, where we linger for a moment to survey the empty tavern below. Vacant tables and chairs are strewn about the tiled floor, and sake bottles and cups litter the wooden tabletops.  
  
"It probably would have helped us if we had remembered to clean up last night," Asako replies lightheartedly, "Shingen is definitely going to be slightly pissed off at us."  
  
A small giggle bubbles out of my throat even though I know that a confrontation is inevitable between myself and Shingen, and it may even end up dragging Tasuki and the other women into it eventually. But how will it end? Will we all still walk out of this hell-hole unharmed?  
  
I continue staring into the dimness of the tavern below as I listen to the sound of Asako's bare feet treading on the wooden planks of the balcony. She quiets her steps when she reaches the staircase so as not to wake Shingen. Sunlight takes my attention away from the vacant tavern and turns it toward Asako's window. The rim of the sun is barely visible above the far skyline of the city, turning the rooftops a mixture of reds, pinks, and oranges. Seeing it instantly makes me think of him, and I smile in spite of the worry coursing through my veins. All will be well; the sunrise tells me so.  
  
I make my way quietly downstairs to the baths, which are connected to the kitchen to allow the warm air from the ever-burning hearth to keep the chill out. Asako has already warmed some water for me and poured it into the small wooden tub even though I didn't ask her. I thank her and smile gratefully before I begin to shrug the plain gown from my shoulders, throwing it and the sash across the back of a chair. It's not often that we bathe; our schedules usually don't allow us the time. But when we do, we cherish it.  
  
I ease myself down into the steaming water, having to keep my knees close to my torso once I'm seated due to how small the little tub is. I begin combing my fingers trough my hair to smooth it out, then scoot forward so I can dunk my head under. I scrub my dark brown strands with my palms, picking up a handful of soap from the small table nearby. After I'm sure my hair is clean and rinsed of all traces of soap, I start to gently scrub my skin. The water is a dirty mess once I'm done, and after I dress I roll up my sleeve to dunk my hand in and unplug the drain that will empty the soiled water through a trough into the backyard of the tavern.  
  
I sit on a low stool by the hearth to dry my hair quickly. I comb it continuously to ensure that it dries in gentle waves instead of in a curled mess. By the time my thick curtain of hair is dry enough to style, all four of the other women have come and gone for their baths and are crowded around me to dry their hair as well. We eat our breakfast as we comb our hair, knowing that the morning is nearing its end.  
  
The sun has nearly reached its highest point by the time we return to our rooms to dress and make sure all is ready to leave once Tasuki arrives. As I watch the sun rise higher and higher, the worry inside my heart spreads farther and farther. But I'm determined not to be afraid. I close the door to my room and undress, intent on taking my mind off what is about to happen.  
  
I wonder if I should bind my breasts with linen as all proper women do before I don the red silk under robe. I decide against it when I realize I have no idea in hell how to go about it in the correct way; I could end up suffocating myself for all I know. So I retrieve the shimmering red gown from my wardrobe and carefully slip my arms through the flowing sleeves. I wrap the two sides tightly around my torso, making sure the opening of the ruffled collar is neither too low nor too high, and tie it securely. Next, I carefully pull the midnight-black outer robe from my wardrobe and put it on over the red gown, the golden and red maple leaves shimmering in the early morning sun. The sleeves of the outer robe end at my shoulders, allowing the magnificent red sleeves of the silk under robe to flow over my arms in their full beauty. I then wrap the satin girdle around my waist, opting to tie it higher on my chest so as to give my breasts a little support. Although the tight sensation of the girdle encompassing my waist and breasts is a little uncomfortable at first, I soon realize that having my breasts securely covered is not a very bad feeling at all. I arrange the gentle ruffles on the top edge of the girdle so that they lay across the middle of my breasts, and I shift it slightly to make the ruffles at the bottom of the girdle line up perfectly with my knees. After making sure the ruffles of my collar are perfectly arranged, and the girdle is perfectly aligned on my waist, I wrap the gold- embroidered red sash beneath my breasts and tie it securely in front to hold together my breathtaking ensemble.  
  
I dare a look in my mirror, afraid that I will burst into tears at the sight of my mother's dress wrapped around me. But when the red, black, and golden image of me takes form in the mirror, an unexplained surge of power courses through me like a flood. I'm not a whore any longer; I have been transformed into something that has eluded me for so long. I look in the mirror in front of me and see a woman. Not a whore. A lady. I see myself as I should be, and as I am. I close my eyes and smile as the vision of me in my mother's dress burns itself into my mind. I will never forget this day for as long as I live. It is the day I finally take my freedom and leave the world of the whore lying dead at my feet. It is the day I bury myself in my lover's arms never to let him go. It is the day I learn to live again.  
  
I open my eyes and seat myself in front of my vanity table. I pat a little powder on my face and paint my lips carefully with vibrant red rouge. With delicate strokes of my fingers, I gather the top portion of my hair into a bun and clasp it firmly with the ruby encrusted golden clip that my lover gave me the night before. I carefully slip the red and blue beaded earrings from my earlobes, placing them inside the small wooden box on my vanity table, and replace them with the onyx and gold earrings I selected the night before. I tug a gold bracelet on both my wrists and slip my bare feet into the plain black slippers I separated from my others last night. I feel as if I am dressed either for my wedding or my funeral, and in spite of the tension hanging in the air of my bedroom, I crack a smile and allow a small laugh to encourage me.  
  
After I place the little carved box holding my jewelry atop the larger cedar chest that holds my clothing and shoes, I pick them up and carry them to my door, happy to see that their weight is tolerable. I open the door and drag them onto the balcony even though I know Shingen could saunter up the stairs at any moment and catch me in the process of leaving. It would be hard to give him an explanation, but I take the risk and plop down on top of my mother's cedar chest, the small wooden box nestled in my hands. I will wait for him quietly and calmly; there is no need to pace back and forth on the balcony to further stir my anxiety.  
  
One by one, the others women emerge, bundles in their arms and other luggage being dragged behind them. They are dressed as I have never seen them before, vibrant yellows and violets, stark whites and sea-blues. Flamboyant jewels dangle from their earlobes and necks, ribbons and clasps hold their lustrous hair out of their eyes. They look like a band of fairies, their gowns and hair swirling and flowing around their bodies. They catch sight of me seated on my cedar chest, and as they approach, smiles spread over their faces. Koi comes to stand at my side and runs her fingers gently through my gleaming brown hair.  
  
"I should've known you'd out do us all, Tansho," she says jokingly. I smile up at her, then at each of the others, who appear speechless at the sight of my red, black, and golden ensemble.  
  
"I found it last night," I admit, "In my mother's cedar chest."  
  
"She must have known you'd need something as beautiful as this some day," Okichi offers, her pearly white hair flowing over her blue satin-clad shoulders like a river on snow.  
  
"I suppose so," I answer absentmindedly. "Do you know what time it is?" I ask.  
  
"The time-teller announced noon a few moments ago," Asako answers, "I heard him as he passed by the front door."  
  
"It should be soon, then," I reply, trying to make my voice sound firm and sure of itself. I try to think of something else to say to them to make the worry and tension in the air disperse, but my mind is distracted by the stamping of horses' hooves and the sound of men's voices outside the tavern. I turn my face to the sky and lock eyes with each of my dear friends.  
  
Our time has come. Our freedom is waiting for us at the door.  
  
I her the front doors open, the grating sound of the old hinges reverberating though the air of the tavern and traveling up the stairs to where we sit, huddled together on the balcony like pigeons. Misa rushes to the edge of the balcony and grasps the ledge to peer down into the empty tavern. Her dark hair swirls upon her shoulders when she turns around to look at us. Her eyes lock with mine.  
  
"He's here," she says, her melodic voice barely above a whisper. My muscles tense, but I ignore them as I bolt from my seat atop the cedar chest and rush to the balcony to see him for myself. He's there, his silhouette framed by the sunlight that pours into the dim tavern from behind him, making his red and orange hair seem as if it really were made of fire. My breath catches in my throat. We're so close now, so close to finally leaving this damned place.  
  
He sees me at the edge of the balcony, and I watch as his eyes grow wide at the sight of me. He turns toward the staircase, but doesn't move; his eyes cannot seem to release me.  
  
"You've enchanted him, little one," Asako replies cheerfully, coming to stands next to me. I smile at him, then press my fingers to my lips and playfully blow him a kiss. A smug grin spreads over his handsome face, causing his tantalizing little fangs to peep out between his lips. He strides across the tavern and takes the steps of the staircase two at a time as if he couldn't get to me any faster. I meet him on the first step and fall into him the moment our bodies make contact. I struggle to keep my tears at bay. This is not a time for weeping; I should be laughing, dancing, singing at the top of my lungs. But Shingen still lingers dangerously at the back of my mind; he has yet to make an appearance. I have no idea where he might be, and I expect him to show up the moment I take the first step outside the door of the Black Dove.  
  
But for now I have my comfort and my reassurance embraced in my arms, and his presence here means that we are that much closer to being set free. I look up at him to see his eyes staring at me, thunderstruck. I smile gently and take his hand in mine, squeezing it to try to awaken him. After several long moments, he seems to come alive again. I had no idea a fifteen-year-old dress could have such an affect on a person.  
  
"Are you ready?" he asks, giving my hand a squeeze in return for mine.  
  
"We are," I answer happily, knowing there is nothing more to be said.  
  
He nods his head down at a pair of imperial guards, telling them to carry our belongings outside to the coaches. I see Okichi study their faces, looking for Tokizo, but he is no doubt still on the eastern border scouting for the emperor. We watch in silence as our bundles, trunks, and chests are heaved onto the shoulders of the guards and carefully transported down the stairs and out the front door to the awaiting coaches. There is a tension in the air, so thick I feel my lungs begin to struggle slightly to draw breath. Tasuki notices and wraps his arm protectively around my trembling shoulder, keeping our sides tightly pressed together. I see him lock gazes with each of the women as if to give them silent encouragement. I wonder if he remembers how they fought and fussed over him that first night we decided to play our little game. Okichi blushes slightly under his gaze, telling me that she remembers quite well how she brazenly placed her hand between his legs that night. Koi and Misa also seem a little flustered at his presence, but Asako seems indifferent as always. She gives Tasuki a bold grin, showing the black spaces in her teeth, and not really knowing what else to do, he smiles back, though not as enthusiastically.  
  
I can't help but smile myself at the strange vibes traveling through the air between Tasuki and the other women. Yes. There's no doubt that they remember quite well the events of that night.  
  
"Master Tasuki," the baritone voice of one of the imperial guards breaks our peculiar reverie. "All of the ladies' belongings have been loaded onto the carriages."  
  
"Good," Tasuki answers, turning to nod his appreciation. He then gently releases my shoulder and turns to the other women, stepping away from the staircase and bowing slightly in the process. "Ladies," he replies gallantly, earning a snicker from Asako as she passes by him on her way down the stairs.  
  
"We may not be whores any longer, my dear," she replies bluntly, "But we certainly aren't demure little ladies either."  
  
I scowl at her, but when she winks coyly at Tasuki and leans into his shoulder to whisper something in his ear, I decide against scolding her. He smiles boldly at her, allowing a single fang to slip out. My curiosity flares, and when the rest of the women have made their way off the balcony and down the stairs, each throwing Tasuki a grateful smile, I turn to him and elbow his rid.  
  
"Ow!" he bellows, rubbing the place where I buried my elbow. "What the hell was that for?"  
  
"What did she say to you?" I ask, making sure my voice doesn't sound too serious. I'm only half-joking, but still a bit irked at how brazen Asako is with any man she comes into contact with.  
  
Tasuki chuckles and shakes his head as if to imply that I'm jealous of my own friend. "You really want to know what she said? You won't get mad at her?"  
  
Hearing this doesn't make me feel better, but I cross my arms and nod my head anyways. Asako is definitely going to get a few words from me later, whether or not she said something suggestive to him. "Yes, I want to know."  
  
Suddenly, I'm in his arms and pressed to his chest, his golden and emerald eyes looming above me like jewels. His breath is warm on my cheeks, the weight of his hands heavy on my back. He tilts his face down to meet my eyes and gently places a kiss on my forehead.  
  
"She said that never before has she seen you look at a man like you look at me. She told me that you love me," he replies nonchalantly. "Is this true, Tansho?" He asks the question as if he truly did not know the answer. I look up into his enchanting eyes and hold his piercing gaze with my own.  
  
"Yes, my beloved," I answer in a soft whisper, "There could be nothing truer in this world."  
  
Without any more words, we turn and walk hand-in-hand down the stairs and across the emptiness of the deserted tavern. The intense sunlight shining through the door blinds me momentarily, and I lift a hand to cover my eyes even though it is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Beyond that threshold is my new world, my new life. I'm grasping my lover's hand and walking away from the life of slavery and brutality that has claimed me as its own for the last five years. As the vivid beauty of the sunlight begins to swallow me, I see a dark silhouette appear in the doorway of the tavern, cutting off the light from me. Tasuki stops, pulling me to a stop as well.  
  
"And just where the hell do you think you're going?" My eyes adjust to the brightness of the light to see Shingen looming in front of me like a storm cloud, blocking the splendor of the sun and plunging my heart into darkness.  
  
A/N: Ha ha! I've done it again! ^_^ You should know me by now - there's always something standing in the way of Tansho's happiness, huh? But I promise to God that my days of leaving cliffhangers are just about through. ^_^  
  
Once again, I'm really sorry that this update took so long, but I'm having some trouble uploading documents from my laptop, and I have to come home in order to do it. But thanks for you patience, and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. ^_^  
  
Love you all! See ya later. ^_^ 


	45. Escape From the Black Dove

Chapter 45  
Escape From the Black Dove  
  
I watch in stunned silence as Shingen steps over the threshold of the Black Dove, blocking my and Tasuki's way. Over his bulky shoulder I see the startled faces of the other women, their eyes wide, their lips parted in fear for me. Koi is in the process of climbing into one of the coaches, her hand held tightly by an imperial guard so she won't trip. I see her blond hair swirl in the breezes as she turns, her ocean-colored eyes instantly broadening with shock at seeing Shingen standing in the Black Dove's doorway. She lets go of the guard's hand and returns to huddle with the other women, their hands clasping each other's.  
  
Not now. Dear gods, not now when I am so close to walking out of this damned place. Where in hell did he come from? Why didn't we see him?  
  
Shingen says something else, but my ears are deaf to whatever it is. I feel Tasuki's hand clench mine tighter. He takes a step sideways, toward me, pressing our arms together. Suddenly I begin to tremble. My skin feels as if I have been hurled into a frozen winter sea. My breath comes in gasps and heaves.  
  
"Tansho," Tasuki whispers into my hair, "It's alright. Nothing's gonna happen to you."  
  
I hear him, and my breath calms a little. His body, so close to mine, warms my skin, but my hand still trembles in his grasp. I am afraid, even though I will never admit it-even to save my own life.  
  
"You look as if you're going somewhere, Tansho," Shingen replies nonchalantly, "I don't remember giving you my permission to go anywhere."  
  
"She no longer needs your permission," Tasuki retorts quickly, his voice dangerously low. I steal a look at him and see his amber-green eyes shimmering with an ominous light that makes my body instantly stop trembling.  
  
"And why the hell is that?" Shingen answers, his voice deepening its tone, trying to match Tasuki's. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you sure as hell don't have a say in this. I own this woman! I have a signed bill of sale from her father."  
  
"I am Tasuki of the Suzaku Seven," my lover replies smoothly, " And you might have owned her once, but not any longer. I have a signed decree from His Highness Saihitei, the Fourth Emperor of Konan, stating that Tansho has been freed from your service and has the right to go wherever she pleases from now on."  
  
The power of truth floods my veins, bringing me to life even though I am in the presence of a demon from hell. My fingers wrap tightly around my lover's and I raise my eyes to meet those of the man who was once my master and my pimp. Shingen returns my stare, lifting himself to his full height to try to intimidate me. But Tasuki is at my side, and the reality of my freedom has awakened my frightened soul. I will not back down from him. He has no right to me any longer. He has no power over me any longer. And he knows this.  
  
"I told you not long ago that I am my own, Shingen," I reply, my soft voice as tranquil and serene as the waves of the sea, "Now, I have the word of the Emperor himself to prove me true." I close my eyes and lightly caress Tasuki's hand with my thumb, thanking him for not being impetuous, and telling him that I am now ready to leave this place. He responds in the same manner, and takes the first step in case Shingen decides to attempt to harm me. "Goodbye, Shingen," I offer him as we begin to walk towards the door.  
  
I glance beyond Shingen to see the women's faces, their hands pressed to their mouths in both awe and anxiety. All except Asako, whose face is as stoic as a priestess's, seem to be on the verge of bursting into tears. As we pass Shingen, I keep my eyes averted, focused on the carriage at the bottom of the veranda stairs. For a blissful moment that reminds of the first time I laid eyes on Tasuki, I believe that I am finally free. The toe of my black slipper is just a single step from the edge of the veranda, my hand nearly on the banister, my soul nearly free. But the terrified eyes of the women suddenly fill my line of view, their mouths open as if to scream, their hands reaching out to me as if to grab me and shield me.  
  
"Tansho!" Tasuki's voice bellows in my ear, and I suddenly feel the weight of his body upon me as he shrouds me with his arms, knocking me off balance and sending me sprawling onto the rough wooden floor of the veranda. He somehow manages to turn me face-up so that my back collides with the floor and not my face. I feel the surprising heaviness of him as he falls on top of me.  
  
A furious sound fills the air rapidly, spreading above Tasuki and I like thunderclouds. I suddenly realize that it is the sound of Shingen's roaring voice, and as Tasuki struggles to get off me without hurting me in the process, I catch a glimpse of shimmering steel above my head, waving in the air like a silver river. My breath catches in my throat when I recognize what Shingen is brandishing. The sound of the women's horrified screams and wails fills the air around me, and my eyes widen in terror as Tasuki rises from the floor of the veranda and stands over me, facing Shingen, whose monstrous arm is raised. He is clutching a dagger as long as my forearm in his fist, his hand trembling slightly, allowing the blade to glimmer and shine in the sunlight. It is blinding.  
  
I suddenly find my senses and push myself onto my elbows, scrambling backward away from Shingen and Tasuki. Somehow, I find myself in the arms of Koi and Asako, who help lift me and pull me backwards to where the coaches wait.  
  
Tasuki and Shingen stand on the veranda, their sides facing us as they face each other. I see the imperial guards at my side, ready to rush to Tasuki's assistance if he should need it. But he lifts his hand, signaling them to stay where they are.  
  
The gaping mouth that is the Black Dove's door seems to separate my former master from my beloved. It stares at me and taunts me. I might have escaped it, but my beloved is trapped upon its threshold. I struggle in the arms of my friends, desperate to get to Tasuki, but their combined strength holds me back. They don't understand! He has lost his celestial warrior powers; he can no longer summon fire from the enchanted fan upon his back. He has no weapon, and Shingen has the gleaming dagger.  
  
"Be still, girl!" Asako's sharp voice echoes in my ear, "This is beyond you now. Will you risk both your life and the life of your man by trying to interfere? Will you deny him his destiny?"  
  
I swirl to face her. His destiny? Her eyes lock with mine and force me to understand. "It is his battle for you, Tansho. It is your battle for him. Unless it is fought, neither of you will truly belong to the other." Her hands wind themselves around mine, keeping me safe at her side. I turn my attention back to Tasuki and Shingen, who stand solid in the presence of each other, neither willing to back down.  
  
And as Shingen takes flight at my lover, his dagger raised, I understand Asako's strange words. Unless Tasuki fights, I may not go free, and I may not have the chance to be with him. Unless he fights for me, he may not be able to take me away from here. As he crouches in readiness for Shingen's attack, I realize that he is about to fight for both of us. My soul longs to join him, but I know I am incapable of standing my ground against Shingen. I reach beneath the folds of my midnight-colored gown and red silk under robe to clasp the golden medallion, the Seal of Suzaku. It is my only link to Tasuki now. As my lover lets his fist fly, his hand outstretched to catch Shingen's wrist before he can bring the dagger down upon him, I begin to pray.  
  
They battle each other fiercely and carnally. Tasuki has only his powerful skills as a martial artist to protect him, and I am grateful to see that they still remain with him even though his ability to throw fire from his fan has disappeared. Shingen lunges and swings, the dagger glinting and shimmering in the sun. Tasuki blocks the paths of the knife before they can come close to him, then retaliates with a vigorous attack of his own, his muscular arms powering his fists, his agile legs powering his kicks. Shingen falls to his knees over and over again as Tasuki's punches and kicks assault him, but he always manages to rise again somehow. Tasuki's quickness keeps him beyond the range of Shingen's knife and brutal fists. Blood pours from cuts on my former master's face, bruises make him unrecognizable, but my beloved remains untouched and unharmed.  
  
But I begin to worry when I hear Tasuki's labored breathe being carried through the air, draining him of his strength. I begin to tremble when Shingen's heaving breaths mingle with my lover's. They are exhausting each other. They have fought for too long without a victor, and neither is willing to surrender. They will kill each other eventually, driving themselves to the brink of collapsing lifeless upon the veranda. My mind struggles to think of something to do. The golden pendant burns the skin between my breasts, urging me on. But before I can think of a solution, the sound of a heavy body crumpling upon the hard wood of the veranda startles me from my reverie. The shocked gasps of the women rise into the air.  
  
My eyes focus on the veranda, and I see my lover standing alone, his head hanging heavily, his shoulders heaving, sweat glistening upon his face. Shingen lies at his feet, still, silent, unconscious. Tasuki has won. My eyes fly to his, where they are held by his enchanting power. He looks down at Shingen, and when he's sure the pimp won't rise again to challenge him, he turns and stumbles down the steps and into the street where I await him. His arms curl around me and press me to his chest, still heaving and gasping from his ordeal. Even though he is just a normal man and no longer a celestial warrior, he is still the victor. My amazement and shock prevent me from saying anything to him, so I simply hold him.  
  
"You're free now," he pants into my ear, stirring my hair with the force of his breath. I hug him to me, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. "You have your freedom."  
  
"I know," I answer quietly, "And I thank you with all of my heart for giving it to me."  
  
He pulls away from me and gazes into my hazy gray eyes. "You took it on your own. I just helped a little." I grin at him and press my lips to his gently, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and the power of his soul. He is my warrior, even if he belongs to Suzaku first.  
  
**************************************************************************** ****************  
  
"Do you want him arrested?" Tasuki asks me once we have all been settled inside our coaches. I lean forward to peer out the window of the carriage. He is till lying face down upon the veranda as if he has fallen asleep there. Passersby have begun to stare at his hulky body, wondering what happened to him. I shake my head.  
  
"Let him feel mercy," I answer, "He may not deserve it, but I believe it is right." Tasuki does not contradict or attempt to argue with me. Instead, he simply hands the emperor's decree to one of the guards and tells him to place it on the veranda where Shingen will see it when he wakes.  
  
"So he doesn't think it was all a dream," Tasuki explains with a slight chuckle. "Damn, it's hot!" he suddenly comments, unbuckling his belt and pulling the sheath from his back to pull his heavy black coat from his shoulders. As I help him shed the thick overcoat, Asako gives us a suggestive look, cocking one of her shapely eyebrows in the process.  
  
She, Tasuki, and I have claimed the lead coach; and Okcihi, Koi, and Misa are resting comfortably in the carriage behind us. Once the decree stating my freedom has been laid beside Shingen's unconscious body, the guard returns and takes his place beside our coach. He shouts to the coach's driver, and we lurch backwards slightly as our carriage moves forward, the horses shorting and stamping their feet impatiently. The sound of the horses behind us tells me that my friends' coach has begun moving as well.  
  
I dare a last glance out of the window and watch calmly as we drive away from the Black Dove, my soul singing inside of me, my heart sighing in relief. I see Asako relax into the velvet and silk cushions that surround her, and Tasuki has already begun to drift to sleep beside me, his head resting on my shoulder, his hand gently holding mine. I fold his overcoat with my free hand and place it on my other side, seeing how much more comfortable he is without its bulky warmth surrounding him. And no wonder he's already snoring gently into my hair; he fought long enough to make his opponent collapse in sheer exhaustion. I wonder quietly to myself if Tasuki did that on purpose, not wanting to seriously injure Shingen or even perhaps kill him. But I won't ask him now; I will let him rest.  
  
I settle back into the soft cushions and rest my cheek on the crown of my lover's head, breathing in the exotic scent of his sweat and skin, wondering how I will be able to watch him ride into the midst of battle in the morning. I try to rest, but I am kept awake by the strange feeling of someone watching me. My eyes lift to Asako, and I see her dark gaze settled on me. I lift my head from Tasuki's and narrow my eyes.  
  
"Asako," I reply quietly so as not to awaken Tasuki, "Is something wrong?"  
  
"I don't want to go to the palace, Tansho," she suddenly replies, keeping her voice low when she sees that Tasuki is sleeping.  
  
My heart stops. She can't mean that she wants us to turn around and carry her back to the Black Dove. I open my mouth to protest, to tell her that I will never give her back to that place, but she stops me with a smile.  
  
"I don't mean that I want to return to the brothel, little one," she says gently, "There is another place I want to go. I cannot live in the palace and be idle after being freed from the Black Dove. I must do something to earn my place in the world. I can only think of one thing that truly draws my heart."  
  
I cannot deny her wish even though I long for her to be with me. I know as I look at her aged, yet incredibly beautiful face that she will only be happy in this place that she speaks of. Yes, I will take her there, wherever it may be.  
  
"Of course, Asako," I answer, "Just tell me where and I'll make sure you're taken there."  
  
A/N: Hello again my darling readers! Thank you so much for your reviews (although I know I've been leaving some devilish cliffhangers, huh? ^_^) But thanks for reading anyways and for giving me so many lovely compliments. Well, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. In my opinion, I think this was the chapter that truly turned Tansho's life around. I absolutely adored writing it! ^_^ Thanks again! See you later! 


	46. His Word

Chapter 46  
  
His Word  
  
"Please have the coaches take me to Mayonaka's house," Asako asks, her eyes shining like diamonds in the noon sunlight. "I cannot see myself living in the palace, Tansho. I have spent far too long doing nothing for this world; I cannot do it any longer."  
  
I gaze at her, admiration swelling inside me. "You want to become a midwife, Asako?"  
  
She smiles and nods. "Mayonaka has told me that they are becoming few in the capital. I believe that only she and three others are still active."  
  
Horrified, I glance down at the velvet carpet beneath our feet. In a city as monstrous as Eiyo, with thousands of women at need of the many services of the midwives, having only four to call upon is disastrous. There is no telling how many women have already suffered. I look back up at Asako. Yes, I love her; and, yes, I will miss not having her with me at all times. But her heart is drawn to helping women like herself who depend upon the skillful hands of the midwives.  
  
"I'll tell them immediately," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I am in shock. I had a vision not long ago of my dear Asako teaching her daughters the skills of the midwife, showing them where to place their hands and how to mix different herbs for different infusions or compresses. But I had thought it only my wishful thinking, my hoping for the best for my dear friend. I never thought it would become a prophecy.  
  
I lean towards the window and call out softly to the guard who is trotting steadily beside the carriage.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" I reply gently, not wanting to wake my sleeping lover who still clings sweetly to me. "Could we make a detour before going to the palace?"  
  
"Of course, Lady Tansho," he answers courteously, earning a slight blush from me. It is the first time I've been referred to as such, but I'm certain it will not be the last. "Where would you like to go?"  
  
I peer out the window and study my surroundings to get my bearings. We've nearly reached the southern gates of the palace. "There should be a large marketplace not far from here if we keep going north," I reply, "When we have just passed it, turn to the west and then take another turn immediately to the south. Drive to the end of the street to the house of Mayonaka the midwife." Both Asako and I know that Mayonaka's house is at the north end of the street that the Black Dove lies on, but at least this way we won't have to see the damned building again.  
  
"Yes, my lady," the guard replies, bowing his head slightly. He then calls out my directions to the two coach drivers and returns to his rhythmic pace at the coach's side.  
  
As the coaches pull to a stop in front of the little house that has the scent of jasmine and ginger wafting from its open door, my heart longs to keep Asako with me. But her eyes come alive when she sees Mayonaka's opened door welcoming her.  
  
"Ladies, is this the house of the midwife?" our guard replies.  
  
"Yes, it is," I answer, "Please give the drivers our thanks."  
  
He nods, the scarlet plumes on his helmet bobbing in the early afternoon breeze. He opens the carriage doors for us and holds out his hand for Asako to take. As he helps her dismount the coach, I wonder to myself if I should wake Tasuki or let him continue sleeping. Asako's firm voice calls my attention.  
  
"Wake him," she says once she is safely on the ground, her eyes glittering suggestively, "I have something to tell him."  
  
Slightly skeptical of the mysterious glint in my friend's dark eyes, I gently shake Tasuki's shoulder, causing him to snort in protest. I give him a harder shake, then pat his tanned cheeks softly with my fingertips. When he still refuses to stir, Asako pokes her head into the interior of the coach and gives me a sly smile.  
  
"Wake up, you little mountain hick!" she yells into his ear, causing him to jump at the startling sound of her voice. He grips my hand as if I can save him from her wrath. "I have something to tell you, so sober yourself."  
  
Tasuki's eyes are glazed and unfocused, but he gives Asako his undivided attention. His grip on my hand makes his bewilderment and surprise painfully obvious, and I cannot help but crack a smile.  
  
Asako rights herself and places her hands on her plump hips. She narrows her eyes at Tasuki as if she were about to reprimand him, but them her beautifully aged face softens. "That night, I knew that neither myself nor any of the other women would get you, my boy," she replies with surprising gentleness, "Tansho enchanted you, just as you enchanted her. And now I expect you to take care of my little one, young man." She raises a single eyebrow and smirks in the way only she could. "Am I clear, my darling? Do I have your word as a man?"  
  
Tasuki wastes no time in giving her a quick yet slightly sluggish "yes", instigating a satisfied smile from Asako and an amused grin from me. I give his hand a squeeze to calm his rushing blood.  
  
"You can return to your nap now, my dear," Asako replies smoothly, "You've earned your rest."  
  
Tasuki nods dumbly, his eyes darting around attempting to figure out where in hell he is. Asako turns toward Mayonaka's door, leaving me to deal with my confused and bewildered lover. I gently pry his nervous fingers from mine and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, looking into his eyes for a moment to tell him all is well. "Go back to sleep," I whisper, smiling at him.  
  
Once again, he simply nods and follows me with his dumbfounded gaze before settling back into the velvet and satin cushions. But before I can step out of the luxurious interior of our carriage, I feel his slightly calloused fingers close gently around my wrist, holding me back. I turn to look at him, and see that his eyes are clear and focused, telling me that he understood quite well what was said to him and what he swore to. My eyes close happily as his touch and his gaze speaks for him. And as he releases me to step out into the street, I look over my shoulder and smile at how quick he is to return to sleep, even though he was just mildly berated by a former whore. His eyes are already closed again, and his body already slumped in the cushioned seat.  
  
The other women have noticed that our little caravan has stopped and are slowly making their way out of their carriage to join us in the street. When they realize where we are, they turn to me for answers, but I direct them to Asako, who waits patiently at Mayonaka's door. She knocks gently on the doorframe even though the open door symbolizes the old midwife's permission to enter her home without announcement. Koi, Okichi, Misa and I keep our distance as Mayonaka comes to her door to see who her visitors are, and when she recognizes Asako, we all watch on in contentment as her arms spread to welcome her most beloved girl. Asako falls into the aged midwife's embrace, then slowly explains to the elderly lady her sudden yet obviously serious wishes to become her apprentice. Mayonaka's eyes become wide as they fill with joy.  
  
"Yes, my girl," she replies without hesitation to Asako, "Yes, there is nothing better in this world for you to do." Her wrinkled palms cup Asako's cheeks affectionately.  
  
It takes a few more moments for us to explain how it is that we are now free from the Black Dove, but when Mayonaka finally understands that we are no longer tied to the world of whores, the brightness in her eyes seems so shine even more brilliantly. She says nothing, but I can feel the happiness emitting from inside of her like ocean waves, washing over all of us, telling us that she has hoped and prayed for this day for years. She invites us in for tea and sweets, but I must turn her down since the guards have informed me that we are being expected at the palace this very minute. We all embrace our beloved friends, kissing Mayonaka's hands and Asako's cheeks, giving our hopes and wishes to them.  
  
I turn to my second mother and hug her to me, wanting to feel the strength of her womanly body so that I may have strength of my own. "I will miss you, Asako."  
  
"No you won't," she quickly retorts, "You'll be coming to visit me regularly, little one. And if you don't, I'm afraid I must infiltrate the palace to come visit you!"  
  
I laugh and kiss her cheeks, trying my hardest to keep the tears at bay. This is where she belongs; our hearts can sense it. And, yes, I will come to visit her. There is no way I could ever remain apart from my beloved mother for long.  
  
"Tansho?"  
  
I glance beside me and see Tasuki peering intently out the window of the coach, studying the people and buildings that pass by us. How long has he been awake? By the look of him, it's as if he never fell asleep. He turns in my direction and gazes at me affectionately, his eyes soft and deep and open to the world. I stare at him and wonder why he chose me to love.  
  
"Yes?" I reply, the sound of my voice giving away how suddenly overwhelmed I am.  
  
He smiles and laces his fingers tightly with mine, turning to gaze idly out the window again. "I just wanted you to know that I intent to keep my word to Asako."  
  
My breath quickens and my heart races, but I keep my torrid emotions hidden from him. He doesn't say anything else, only stares out of our window as if the world that is passing us by is the key to all misunderstandings, the balm to all wounds, the soft words to all injured hearts, the love to counterattack all bitterness and hatred. The warmth of his hand spreads through my body like water, making me long to touch him more, to kiss him, to press myself to him. He is the cornerstone of my existence now; him, and my primal will to survive. Upon him lies my life, cradled gently in his arms, warmed by the heat of his skin. He has saved me and delivered me, and now he holds my hand in his to tell me how happy he is to finally have me with him, unhindered, unafraid of who might hurt me once he turns his back.  
  
"Will you be my wife, Tansho?" he asks suddenly, turning away from the window to face me, his vibrant flaming hair enchanting me as it swirls and flows like a halo of fire around his face. His unworldly amber-tinted green eyes inquire me gently. "I understand if you would want to wait until the war has ended and I've returned to the capital. I wouldn't want to make you a widow before you even had a chance to be a wife-" He pauses to take hold of my other hand, pulling me gently toward him. "But I do love you, Tansho, and I want you to be as happy as I am. I want to take care of you. I want you to know that you'll never be mistreated again, that you'll always be safe with me."  
  
My mouth refuses to open for him, to offer any reply or answer whatsoever. I understand his desire to bind himself to me, to offer protection and happiness to me. And I know he loves me. The eager and excited tone of his voice mixed with the anxious pressure of his fingers on mine tells me all I need to know. But does he know how many men I have slept with in my lifetime? Does he know how unfaithful I was to him during his absence, even though I envisioned him in my mind every second I was with them? Does he know that even though I will remain loyal to only him for the rest of my life, that the memory of my promiscuous past will always be fresh in my mind? I finally open my mouth to refuse my beloved as gently as I can, but his soft words interrupt me before I can even begin to speak.  
  
"Nothing you ever did in the Black Dove matters to me," he says boldly, his eyes shining, "I know you did things for many reasons, reasons that I won't ever ask you to explain to me. But it's in the past now, far away from us."  
  
With those simple yet stunningly profound words, he has sealed my decision. I could never say no to him, even if I knew without a doubt that he would die tomorrow and leave me forever. Even then, I would marry him and live this single day as his wife.  
  
I lift my face to his and gaze into the mysteries of his eyes, wondering with a sly smile if he truly knows the kind of woman he has asked with all his heart to be his wife. But when he gazes back at me with such hope that I nearly turn away in sadness, I realize that he understands quite well exactly who I am. I am the woman who would be him if I were a man. I grin at the unexpected and humorous thought in my head, then embrace my beloved with my entire being.  
  
"Yes, I will be your wife, Tasuki," I announce happily, "And I would marry you tonight if you asked me to."  
  
"Then will you?" he quickly answers, pulling away with hope still shining like a jewel in his eyes.  
  
"Yes."  
  
A/N: Whoo-hoo! I bet you never expected that, huh? ^_^ Well, to tell the truth, I was very tempted to have them never get married in an actual ceremony but rather have them simply live together after the war in a common-law marriage. But then I started imagining all the good things that could happen for them in these next few chapters before he goes off to war, and I decided that a Chinese wedding would do my angst-ridden story some long-needed good. There are a lot of things coming up that you'll notice couldn't be done in quite the same way if I decided to not have them get married.  
  
And I also would like to address a question asked in the reviews by Wingsong (cute name, by the way) about Tasuki's fan. You mentioned that you thought he could use his fan even while his celestial powers were sealed away when Suzaku was. I think I remember in the series that he wasn't able to use the fan (though when you think of it, it doesn't really make sense seeing as the fan wasn't even part of his celestial powers). Please remember, I may be wrong, though. ^_^  
  
Thanks to everyone else who read and reviewed! ^_^ Every single word that you guys write helps me in some way with my writing. Love you all!! 


	47. Into the Seraglio

Chapter 47  
Into the Seraglio  
  
I have seen them many times before when passing by, but the astounding beauty of the southern gates of the palace take my breath away the moment they open to allow our two carriages to enter. We pass by flowering courtyards, bustling with imperial guards, noble guests, and dozens upon dozens of servants. My heart begins to race as the excitement of living in the palace overwhelms me. I can only imagine the void expressions on the faces of the women in the coach behind me as they stare at the lavish images outside their window.  
  
I grab Tasuki's black overcoat and tell him to turn around so I can slip it over his shoulders. I know he'd rather keep it off, but wearing it gives him an air of intensity and vigor that I rather like. I suppose it's the midnight-black shade of the coat. I also take a moment to overlook my own apparel, making sure the ruffles of my collar and girdle aren't crushed, and gazing down at my breasts to make sure they are both contained within the layers of ruby and onyx-colored fabric. My nervousness irritates me; I've always thought myself cool and indifferent, and yet now my heart is threatening to explode within my chest from how rapidly its beating.  
  
The coach surges to a halt in front of a staircase laid with a lustrous red and green velvet carpet. I lean boldly out of the window and start when I see His Highness the emperor smiling broadly at me, obviously amused by my blunt curiosity. A gorgeous young woman with vibrant, elaborately decorated lilac-colored hair stands at the emperor's right hand, their shoulders barely touching in a delicate display of affection. The elegant aura that radiates from her silk-clad figure astounds me. She is no doubt the Empress Hoki.  
  
An imperial guard approaches the carriage and opens the door, bowing slightly when Tasuki steps out onto the scarlet and emerald carpet, his heavy boot thumping on the soft material. He turns to me with a lop-sided smile and holds out his hand gallantly, making the beat of my heart race even faster. I take a deep breath and grip his hand, stepping slowly and cautiously from the lush interior of the coach, scared to death that I'm going to trip and humiliate myself in front of the emperor and empress of my country. I take the delicate steps one at a time until I'm safely standing upon the smooth velvet carpet beside Tasuki, who seems worried about how tightly I'm clenching his hand. He gives me a reassuring squeeze and I release him from my death grip with a look of apology. He only smiles and offers his arm to me, which I'm more than glad to take. The feel of his side pressed gently to mine comforts me deeply as we ascend the small flight of stairs that separates us from the emperor and empress. I glance over my shoulder at Koi, Misa, and Okichi who seem to be too busy gawking at the exterior of the palace to notice me. They follow us blindly, clinging to each other as if something in this magnificent place could jump out and attack them. I grin and turn back around as we come to a stop in front of the royal couple, who are both smiling in amusement at the sight of the astounded women following us.  
  
"Welcome!" His Highness Hotohori replies happily. "Miss Tansho, it's wonderful to see you again after so long. I'm overjoyed that you have decided to finally take up my earlier offer." His tone of voice tells me he's only teasing, and I grin in return. "I'm pleased to see that your companions have accompanied you as well."  
  
"Highness," I reply demurely, releasing Tasuki's arm in order to bow deeply before my emperor, making sure my head lowers far below his to symbolize my inferiority. "I thank you with all my heart and soul for allowing my friends and I to come to your splendid palace to stay. We will be forever and always grateful for your generosity."  
  
"Thank your beloved, Miss Tansho," the emperor answers, "Tasuki is the one that requested all of you to be brought here. I only gave my permission."  
  
I turn to Tasuki and give him a sly smile and a slight bow of my head, which seems to dumbfound him for a moment. But then I see his eyes glint as he catches my meaning. I will thank my darling lover properly later on. I turn back to the emperor, my happiness about to burst out of my chest.  
  
"If you would please excuse me," His Highness replies, turning to his wife then to us, his guests, "My advisors and Chichiri are expecting me soon. Tasuki, it might be best if you accompany me as well. Your knowledge may assist us in developing a subtle maneuver for tomorrow's attack."  
  
The emperor, myself, and Tasuki know quite well of what knowledge His Highness speaks of. From so many years of raiding and ambushing, not to mention defending the mountain fortress he calls home, Tasuki is no doubt extremely skilled in the areas of planning and attacking.  
  
Tasuki bows his head to show his obedience and turns to face me. "I'll come see you later this afternoon, alright?" I nod and smile happily. He turns and bids a quick farewell to the other women before climbing the few remaining steps to where the emperor stands. His Highness turns to face the other women and me yet again.  
  
"Ladies," he replies, addressing all of us, "May I introduce my wife, the Empress of Konan-Lady Hoki. She will take over my duties as host and show you to the seraglio where your accommodations shall be during your stay at the palace." The empress bows gently to her husband before he bows in return to all of us, then takes his leave with Tasuki at his side.  
  
"Welcome to the palace," Empress Hoki remarks giddily, "I've heard so much about you, Lady Tansho." She smiles and I suddenly realize with a startling jolt just how much of a resemblance this lovely young woman has to Nuriko. The same vivid purple hair, the same slanted, wild eyes. Even her voice slightly reminds me of the strange young man who fooled even me into thinking he was a woman. But I hide my astonishment and return the empress's smile, bowing low to yet again show my inferior status.  
  
"May I introduce my friends, Your Highness," I reply, "This is Koi, Misa, and Okichi." I turn and motion with a gentle sweep of my ruffled sleeve as I say each of their names. More bowing ensues, but I am already becoming used to being in constant obeisance to my superiors. I suppose it is natural when in the presence of your empress or emperor.  
  
"Please follow me," Lady Hoki replies in her sweet, melodious voice while motioning with her hand, the creamy skin peeking out from beneath layers of colorful silk. As we fall into step beside her, I'm struck speechless by this beautiful woman. Everything about her breathes supremacy, and yet the aura that floats around her graceful body like a cloud is laden with benevolence and gentleness. The way she carries herself is perfectly elegant, and yet I sense not an ounce of vanity or pompousness. She chats happily with the other women, who are both honored and ecstatic to be speaking so informally to the Empress of Konan. Then she turns to me, bringing me out of my studies of her.  
  
"I must admit that your story has become quite a legend in the palace," she tells me, tucking her hands into the long ruffles of her sleeves and giving me a wink. "That night that you braved the imperial guards to get to Master Tasuki has never been forgotten."  
  
"What?" I quickly retort, momentarily forgetting my place and whom I am speaking so frankly to, "You mean others know what I did?"  
  
"Of course! Not only did the guards spread the word, trying to find you, but several servants saw you as well."  
  
My face burns with embarrassment, and I gawk idiotically at Lady Hoki. "Ohhh," I moan, covering my face with my hands.  
  
"Oh dear, Tansho," Empress Hoki replies softly, taking my hands and stopping us, "Don't be embarrassed! I think that is one of the most romantic tales I've ever heard! The courtesans, servants-even the guards and His Highness's guests can't stop talking about it. Never before has anything like that ever happened in the palace."  
  
By the way she describes the spreading of my story, I wouldn't doubt that half the capital knows how I infiltrated the palace in the pouring rain and managed to slip unseen into my lover's room. But still, the realization that my brazen actions that night have spread throughout the palace and most likely Eiyo as well makes the blood rush to my face in both humiliation and flattery.  
  
"The courtesans are overjoyed that you and your companions are coming to stay in the seraglio for the duration of the war. They can't wait to meet you."  
  
It is not until we are standing between the two gold engraved iron gates of the harem that I realize we have arrived. The marvelous gates are already opened and waiting for us to enter; two imperial guards posted on either side who bow as we pass through. Once again, my breath is stolen from my lungs at the sight of the stunning courtyard sprawled before us. Cobblestone and marble pathways wind like gleaming serpents around weeping willows and giant magnolia trees that climb so high into the blue sky that they block the sun's rays from reaching the floor of courtyard. This place is more like a gigantic garden, I muse. Gardenia, iris, jasmine, and opium poppies line the numerous walkways, shadowing the courtyard in vibrant whites, purples, and pinks. My eyes are drawn to the very center of the courtyard, where a marble fountain sits alone and undisturbed, glistening water as clear as diamonds sprouting from its sides and top, splashing into the pool surrounding the fountain's base. Surrounding the gorgeous fountain sits several gazebos, each connected to its neighbor by a vine- covered little walkway. The beauty is overwhelming.  
  
On either side of the courtyard lie identical buildings, their gilded roofs sloped in the style of the palace architecture, with wooden verandas wrapped around their fronts. All the windows are open to allow the late summer air to circulate inside the rooms.  
  
"Welcome to the imperial seraglio, ladies," a young woman's voice announces cheerfully. My attention is drawn to where the voice came from, and a group of women, their forms covered in layers of chiffon and silk, comes into view. They are without a doubt the courtesans. Women in plainer dress surround the richly dressed ladies, and I guess them to be the handmaids. They all bow slightly, smiles spread across their powdered faces. Myself and the other women who stand at my side bow in return.  
  
"May I introduce the Headmistress of the Seraglio," Empress Hoki speaks up, smiling merrily at the young woman who addressed us. "Lady Junko." The young woman bows again at being introduced, her onyx-black hair flowing over her sloped shoulders. She is tall for a woman, standing well above the other courtesans who surround her, but her lofty frame only adds to her sophisticated and graceful demeanor. Her large, bright eyes shine like sapphires. "Lady Junko, may I introduce Tansho, Koi, Misa, and Okichi," the empress continues, motioning to my friends and I.  
  
We all bow respectfully and are put at ease by the soft, beaming smiles of the courtesans. Upon closer study of them, I'm shocked to see that only about a dozen are present-. Certainly the harem must have more women than this in it; it is not unusual for two or three hundred women to be living within a seraglio at one time. And even more strange is that all these women are young, and yet there are no children hiding behind their layered skirts or running wildly through the garden. Is it possible that none of these women have children? Is it possible that this harem is unused?  
  
"If you would excuse me, please," Empress Hoki replies, "I hope to see you again shortly, Lady Tansho. Please enjoy your stay."  
  
I bow low to the ground in front of my Empress, and thank her for her kindness in showing us to the seraglio. As she takes her leave, I'm once again struck by the stunning resemblance between her and Nuriko. Certainly I cannot be the only one who notices it. I'm brought away from my thoughts by Lady Junko's smooth, refined voice.  
  
"Lady Tansho, we are so pleased to have you and your friends staying with us!" she replies, approaching me and taking my hands. "The other ladies and I have heard so much about you."  
  
I smile politely at her and allow her to gently lead me toward one of the golden buildings that skirt the courtyard. "Please follow me and I will show you and your companions to your rooms. After you've rested, you can meet the other courtesans in the courtyard for tea and sweets." Misa, Koi, Okichi and myself follow Lady Junko to a set of steps that lead to the polished wooden veranda of one of the buildings. Junko hesitates momentarily and leans over slightly to whisper to us, her voice hinted with both sympathy and delight. "You must excuse the Lady Empress's abrupt departure. She is not feeling well."  
  
Concerned, I inquire as to what she's suffering from.  
  
"Oh no!" chimes the Headmistress, waving her hand as if shooing away the idea. "Lady Hoki suffers from no illness. She was recently told by the imperial physician that she is expecting a child soon! It is only a bout of nausea every now and then. Very unpredictable, you know."  
  
"The empress is pregnant?!" Misa whispers hoarsely, as if it were a taboo to mention such a thing. The Headmistress of the Seraglio nods happily.  
  
"But she and His Highness were only married a month ago," I reply, as if Junko would need reminding of the event that no doubt consumed the palace and everyone in it. "The doctor discovered her pregnancy already?"  
  
Junko laughs heartily as if I made a joke. Bewildered, I narrow my eyes, but she is quick to explain her sudden burst of giggles. "I do not want to sound insolent, so let me just say that Lady Hoki and His Highness didn't exactly have the patience to wait until their wedding night to consummate their marriage." She gives us all a wink and a sly grin. We all understand instantly, and no more is spoken on what must be a regular topic of hushed conversation in the palace, although I'm sure His Highness and Lady Hoki could care less about what the people think. I dare a sly grin of my own, and glance around me to see that we all wear matching smug expressions with a hint of glee in our eyes.  
  
As we continue up the steps and onto the wooden veranda, I dare a peek over my shoulder at the courtesans as we walk. They have all scattered from the entrance of the gates and are either returned to their rooms, their servants at their heels, or have split into groups of three or four and opted to stroll in the fragrant air of the courtyard. A few catch me glimpsing at them and I wave, earning their smiles and excited waves in return. I am flattered that they were so captivated by what I dared to do that night I came to the palace, and even more flattered that they're so excited to have me living with them. But I have so many questions about them that I'm afraid to ask for fear of offending them. How is it that there are so few of them, and that there are no children? Does His Highness really only keep a harem of a dozen women? How utterly strange, even though he does have a wife now. Amazingly, and to my astonishment, Junko seems to read my mind.  
  
"I know what you must be thinking," Junko replies, her graceful voice tinted with a hint of humor, "Why so few courtesans in such a humongous seraglio?"  
  
I look away, partially embarrassed by how she suddenly seemed to look straight into my head. "I admit that I am a bit curious," I answer softly.  
  
She laughs, her soft voice ringing through the air like the sound of flutes. I have taken a liking to the Headmistress and her uninhibited personality. I expected to meet a demure, submissive woman, but Junko's playful, unreserved demeanor is refreshing. "Don't be embarrassed, Tansho," she replies, turning to smile at me as we continue to walk down the long wooden veranda. We pass a couple of handmaids, who smile and bow respectfully to us. "All visitors wonder why His Highness keeps such a small harem. The truth is that he doesn't keep them here at all." She pauses to see our reaction, and smiles broadly as if she won a game when we all give her a look of confusion. "Not long after he and Lady Hoki married, he announced that any courtesan who wished to leave the royal harem and return to her family could go if that is what she desired. In less than a week, nearly two hundred courtesans poured out of those gates and returned home, just like that!" She snaps her fingers jokingly, emphasizing the startling end of the story.  
  
"They just left?" Okichi asks, speeding up slightly in order to walk on Junko's other side. She is obviously surprised by the odd tale, although her expression betrays her obvious agreement with the emperor's generous actions.  
  
Lady Junko nods, still smiling merrily. "The only reason the twelve women who remain here are still here at all is because they either don't have a home to return to, or were purchased from slave traders for the harem." She sighs and frowns slightly. "Poor girls. But at least they are still well cared for here. They would never be forced to leave, but if they ever wished to find a new home elsewhere they would never be hindered."  
  
"Why were they allowed to leave in the first place? I thought it was tradition for a woman who enters the harem to die there," Koi replies, her eyebrows narrowed.  
  
"The emperor wished for it to be done. He believes that the harem is cruel, seeing as dozens of women are forced to remain here, hoping for the day when His Highness will call for them," Junko answers.  
  
"Do you mean to say that the emperor has never used his harem? He's never called any of the courtesans to his chambers once?" Misa remarks bluntly, disbelief evident in her tone of voice. "Is that why there are no children here?"  
  
"Exactly," Junko answers with surprising liveliness, "For years, His Highness only visited because his advisors urged him to, seeing as he was well beyond the age to take a wife. He never called any of the ladies to his quarters." She stops speaking instantly, almost as if she wanted to say something but abruptly changed her mind at the last minute. I hear her strange pause, and I stop to see that she has halted in her tracks as well. Her eyes are cast far off, as if remembering something. "Only once did he invite a lady to his bed. But she died about a year later, and His Highness shied away from the harem not long after."  
  
I start at what she just said and gape at her. "She died?" I ask, my hands coming to rest on my lips in compassion. "What happened?" The other women gather around Junko's still form, her gleaming black hair swaying gently in the breeze passing through the veranda. The memory is obviously painful, for her dark blue eyes shimmer with wetness, telling us all that she is close to tears. Her pale hands clench and wrap themselves together, and she lifts her downcast face to smile gently at us. Unexpectedly, she resumes walking, and we follow quietly close by, hoping to hear the story that she is hesitant to tell. To our surprise, Junko steps onto a small flight of stairs that lead off the veranda, and strolls slowly towards the flowering courtyard. We trail behind her, and hold our breath as she begins to speak, telling us the story that has no doubt been buried within her heart for quite some time.  
  
A/N: Ah yes, another of my lovely subplots is on its way (though not really a true subplot, but rather something I thought up to emphasize a worry of Tansho's , and also to give my version of something that might have happened to Hotohori.) I'm sorry to tease you so much, but I felt that perhaps I need to warn you so you don't start thinking, "Why the hell did she write this?" when you start reading the next chapter.  
  
So, Tansho and the others have arrived in their new home! Tasuki and Tansho's wedding is coming up soon; and, unfortunately, Tasuki must be leaving soon! * sniff *  
  
As of now, if there are no sudden changes in my already-hectic life that hinder me, I'm going to be able to post a chapter a week since I've already written up to Chapter 55 (I like to stay ahead of my posting to give myself plenty of time to edit, re-write if I need to, and post.) But since I'm getting used to the new college life, I may have to put off my writing every now and then in the future. But I'm not there yet, so don't worry!! ^_^  
  
Thanks again for your great reviews! Loved them! 


	48. The Tale of Tsuya

Chapter 48  
The Tale of Tsuya  
  
I wish that I could be totally enveloped by the otherworldly aura of the courtyard that surrounds us, but I'm too apprehensive now that Junko has mentioned the unnamed courtesan who died. Koi, Misa, Okichi, and I follow after her silently, our eyes roaming over the shadowy colors of the gorgeous flowers and plants that line the marble and cobblestone walkway we tread upon. Tiny creeks, something that I didn't notice when I first entered the seraglio and saw the magnificence of the gardens, trickle like streams of diamonds between greenery. Bridges, some only a few steps across, carry us over the small rivers toward the center of the garden where the gazebos and fountain sit. Junko stops at the entrance of the nearest gazebo and runs the palm of her hand gently over the side of its doorway as if greeting it.  
  
"This is a beautiful garden, isn't it?" she asks us nonchalantly. It sounds more like a known statement than a question, but we all answer her with soft "yes's" and hums of agreement. "His Highness ordered the building of these gazebos for her," Junko replies, taking her hand away from the smooth brown wood of the doorway. "For the Lady Tsuya."  
  
Tsuya. "She was the courtesan who died?" Misa asks gently, not wanting to force Junko to drag us painful memories of a woman who was obviously once her friend.  
  
"Yes, that was her name," she replies after a moment of silence, "I was a little hesitant to tell you about her seeing as she and you have something quite ironically in common."  
  
My interest is more than stoked now, and even though I want to tell Lady Junko that if telling us Tsuya's story will cause her grief, please don't tell it-I'm afraid I would be disappointed in not hearing it. I watch as Junko steps lightly on the single stair that leads to the interior of the lovely gazebo. As she studies the craftsmanship of the carving as if she's never before seen it, she begins to talk.  
  
"Tsuya was very different from all the other courtesans. Regarding her past, she would never have had a chance to come live in the royal harem, but the former Headmistress was intrigued by her when she saw her in the slave markets. Tsuya had been purchased from a rather well-known madam of Eiyo who owned a top-notch bordello in the inner-city." Junko purposefully pauses for a moment, having revealed to us what Tsuya once had in common with us. Okichi stares dumbfounded, obviously on the verge of disbelief.  
  
"You mean she was a prostitute before she became a courtesan?" I ask, also flabbergasted at the sudden revelation, "I thought that only virgins were allowed residence in the harem."  
  
"Custom required it, yes," Junko answers, continuing her careful study of the gazebo, "But there was something very intriguing about Tsuya that made the former Headmistress disregard Tsuya's past status and her so- called spoiled purity." Junko stops yet again to walk out from beneath the beauty of the gazebo to rejoin us on the walkway. We resume walking, her in the center of us.  
  
"Tsuya had otherworldly eyes-eyes that glimmered like the color of fire. This is what captured the Headmistress and drove her to purchase Tsuya for the harem even though it was a blunder of tradition seeing as she wasn't an innocent."  
  
Although the story is riveting, my curiosity takes over. "Why did her madam sell her?" I ask.  
  
Junko turns to me and grins as if I just discovered the secret of the universe itself. My heart speeds up within my chest, pounding and thundering like a waterfall. "I asked Tsuya that once, and she said that it was because she fell in love."  
  
I bite down on my bottom lip and lower my eyes to the shadows on the ground to hide my astonishment at the irony.  
  
"The bordello that Tsuya worked in was very high-class and the madam very possessive of her girls. No client could be entertained unless by appointment and unless he paid the madam downstairs before visiting one of the women. Tsuya's madam caught her with a lover one night, and sold her almost immediately to the slave market. Her man tried to purchase her in order to free her, but he was refused."  
  
My heart constricts within my chest, but I force myself to continue walking. I feel the gentle gazes of my friends on me, obviously both concerned and interested in what my reaction might be. The similarities between this young woman Tsuya and myself are almost eerie, and yet the differences are even stranger-while she must have lived considerably well in a high-class bordello, I called a run-down tavern that housed an upstairs brothel my home; and while both of our fates may have led us into the seraglio, the circumstances are obviously quite opposite. Still, I cannot help but suddenly feel a mystic connection with this strange young woman. I raise my eyes to Lady Junko to urge her to finish the story. She is more than happy to comply, even though the resurrected grief in her sapphire-blue eyes is evident.  
  
"She was very beautiful, even though the crimson tinge to her eyes did give her supernatural air that drew some people in and frightened many others away. She had very dark hair, much the same color as mine, but much darker."  
  
I blink; how could anyone's hair be darker than Junko's? I've never even seen a shade like hers-it could only be described as midnight or nothingness. And yet Tsuya's was darker still.  
  
"His Highness first saw her on an outing to the seraglio, urged by his advisors since he was nearly sixteen and would be expected to produce heirs as soon as possible. Tsuya was sitting here, by the fountain, where the gazebos now stand. They fell in love more quickly and intensely than even His Highness's advisors could never hope for. They were sure the emperor would declare Lady Tsuya Empress by his sixteenth birthday. They cared little that both His Highness and Tsuya were young-she was barely sixteen herself; but to the surprise of nearly everyone in the palace, it mattered even less that Lady Tsuya was once a prostitute. His Highness knew, of course; his advisors always kept him updated on the state of his harem. And yet he still loved Tsuya far more than either of them could ever imagine. And she loved him as well; whenever she wasn't with him, she was with me, telling me everything about him that she knew-how he laughed, how gentle he was, how kind he was."  
  
Junko stops in front of the magnificent fountain that lies at the center of the courtyard. Her eyes glimmer with fresh tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. It is obvious by her demeanor that she and Tsuya were once as close as sisters, and that the recounting of her friend's story is hard. But she seems determined to tell us all, and we watch in sympathy as she turns to us, her lips trembling, her eyes shimmering.  
  
"But she died before they could ever be married," she chokes out, suddenly overcome by emotion. My heart shatters like glass as I watch the tears begin to drip onto the smooth skin of her cheeks. Without thinking, I walk to her and gather her lithe, tall body into my arms, pressing her to me in hopes of comforting her even though we barely know each other. She clings to me, but continues to speak in quiet, tortured tones that tell all of her suffering.  
  
"She fell ill only a few months after His Highness began calling for her regularly. The doctors ordered her to bed, but myself and two others were allowed to help her into the courtyard once a day so that she could get some sunshine. We always came here, to the fountain, and talked until she became too weak to even sit any longer. One day vicious cramps and pains began to cease her, and she couldn't even rise from her bed any more. Her illness seemed to devour her; she became pale and thin."  
  
Junko stops to gently pull away from me, and with a ruffled silk sleeve she wipes her eyes before meeting mine. "Her abdomen became strangely bloated, but the doctors said that it wasn't caused by pregnancy. His Highness stayed with her night and day, hardly ever leaving her side for more than a hour at a time. He was afraid that she would slip away and he would not be there to bid her goodbye. The day she died was in the middle of summer-bright and warm. But poor Tsuya had the chill of death clinging to her despite the humid air of the summer day. She died at sunset, quietly and swiftly-very different from her illness, which had caused her unbelievable pain."  
  
"Did the doctors never find out what she suffered from? Did they never try to treat it?" Koi asks, coming to stand beside Junko and I.  
  
"No," Lady Junko answers slowly, still dabbing at her red-rimmed eyes with her sleeve, "They examined her again and again, and yet they could never agree on any medicine that might help her. The disease was swift in taking her-only a month or so. His Highness was inconsolable, but still determined to know what had caused his beloved's untimely death. He ordered something that none of the doctors had ever heard of-he demanded that they examine Tsuya's insides to see if the bloating in her abdomen was what caused her death."  
  
Upon hearing this, I'm both appalled and overcome with wonder. Examine her insides? Did the doctors cut Tsuya's body open to study the insides? Never before in my life have I ever heard such a thing. I grasp Junko's trembling hands in mine to try to give her strength to finish her fascinating and tragic tale. She draws in a deep breath as if flustered, and I realize that what we are about to hear is probably nothing we would ever expect.  
  
"The doctors had no choice to obey His Highness's orders, even though it was unheard of to desecrate a deceased body." Her eyes rise to meet mine, and I see something close to astonishment buried in them, and perhaps even a tint of fear. "They found a mass inside her womb the size of a fist," she whispers, her lips trembling, "It had sucked the life out of her."  
  
I hurl my hands at my lips, horrified. A mass? My eyes urge Junko to elaborate, but I'm terribly frightened of pushing her suffering tom far. It has taken quite a lot out of her to tell us even this much. Did a demon invade Lady Tsuya's body and take hold in her womb? My eyes drop to the ground as my mind whispers something to me that steals my breath from my lungs. Or was it due to her years as a whore? Was her illness caused by the numerous diseases that pass through copulation? The thought terrifies me. Is this how I will one day die? Killed by a disease that hibernated in me for years only to strike me down years later?  
  
"How horrible," I reply under my breath, my heart weary.  
  
"His Highness buried Lady Tsuya here in the courtyard," she turns to the largest gazebo, a gorgeous building that could seat a dozen people. "There is her grave. He ordered these gazebos built in her honor, the largest and most magnificent her ordered built over her grave to protect it."  
  
I stand motionless and gaze at the elaborately carved building only a few steps away from me, studying it's intricate designs of magnolia blossoms and leaves. How heartbreaking it must have been for the young emperor to lose his first love so suddenly and harshly; how hard it must have been for him to try to love again. Lady Hoki must be a marvelous woman to bring a man out of his grief for his first beloved, but my thought is partially disproved when Junko makes a rather surprising statement.  
  
"It wasn't until the Priestess came here that His Highness seemed to come out of his misery over losing Tsuya. Before the Lady Priestess arrived from her world, the emperor hardly ever ventured beyond the walls of his palace, and the people of Konan suffered from his negligence. But when she came, he was saved from his mourning and shown that it is what is here and now that matters. Lady Hoki also helped him, teaching him how to open his heart again and love after losing something so precious. He never forgot Tsuya; he comes here to the seraglio courtyard whenever he can to pay his respects to her grave. He will always miss her, even though he has finally fallen in love again."  
  
So it was the Priestess as well as lady Hoki that brought His Highness out of his grief. I have only met her once, but it is beyond a doubt that this woman-child known as the Priestess of Suzaku is a powerful girl to have lifted an emperor out of mourning for his beloved. Perhaps she even stole his heart before Lady Hoki did. I smile at this, the first smile that has graced my face since lady Tsuya was mentioned. Junko's face is calmer now, her eyes dryer. And by the way she smiles gently at the beautiful gazebo that shelters her lost friend's burial site, I believe that telling her story has done far more good for her than bad. Her shimmering sapphire-like eyes are as clear as the sea, telling us all that her mourning had ended as well.  
  
I'm so astonished at the beauty of my living quarters that I'm barely able to move my feet in order to cross the threshold. I am the last to be shown to my room; the other women were directed to theirs by Lady Junko soon after we exited the shadowy beauty of the garden courtyard, our hearts both light and heavy after being told the tragic story of Tsuya. But I do believe that her tale has dome something for me-given me a sense of belonging in this exotic place that I will call my home. And yet her tale has also invoked a fear in me, a dread in my bones, as if death were waiting patiently for me somewhere. The circumstances of her life were oddly similar to mine-would her death be as well?  
  
"I hope you'll be comfortable here, Tansho," Junko replies, her voice now returned to its former melodious tone, "Master Tasuki made it very clear that the best rooms were to be prepared for you and your companions." She smiles and laughs gently. "Mine is a little better. I hope you won't hold that against me."  
  
I grin broadly to show her I don't mind at all; the headmistress should have the best room. "I'm sure I'll be more than comfortable here. I've never seen anything like this! To think of all the empty rooms here now that most of the courtesans have left; do you use them for anything?" I ask, strolling slowly through the interior of my small alcove, giving everything a quick look-over.  
  
"Mostly just storage. Every now and then the guest quarters will fill up, you and your friends' visit being an example, and these extra rooms are needed," she answers, walking in front of me and extending her arm. "Please, let me show you around."  
  
I follow her out of the small alcove and into the bedchamber, instantly realizing that the seraglio rooms are much larger and much more extravagant than the guest room that I remember Tasuki having. A large mahogany bed dominates the sleeping quarters, covered by a flowing white chiffon canopy that is gathered to each of the four bedposts and held fast with golden cords. The bedspread is a breathtaking lavender color, and multi-colored pillows of all shapes and sizes adorn the head of the gorgeous bed.  
  
"Here are the sleeping quarters, and over there you'll find the wardrobe and vanity," Junko replies. I'm surprised to see that my few belongings have already been transported here and are waiting patiently for me at the foot of the monstrous wardrobe that seems nearly twice the size of the one I had in the Black Dove. "I've also taken the liberty to provide a few formal gowns and girdles for you as a welcoming gift. I hope they're to your satisfaction," Junko replies happily, still smiling.  
  
She turns and beckons me to follow her through an open doorway, and I follow blindly after her, not truly believing that there is even more to see in this marvelous place that I can call my room. But there is. In the middle of the white tiled floor is a gorgeous bath tiled with pure jade. The bath is not at all like the wooden tub I am used to bathing in at the tavern; it is buried directly in the ground, like a pond almost. Golden rods draped with fresh snow-white towels line one wall, and on the opposite wall hangs a golden-framed mirror. I'm too amazed to speak. My own private bath? Never before in my life have I had such a thing. I turn to Junko, who is obviously pleased with my astonishment.  
  
"I take it you like your new accommodations?" she asked giddily, turning to the mirror to inspect its cleanliness. Satisfied, she returns her attention to me with her ever-jovial smile.  
  
"This place is wonderful!" I reply, "It's more than wonderful! I just can't find the words to describe it!" Overwhelmed, I just smile and gaze at my beautiful surroundings, still trying to truly realize that this place is now my home. And that Tasuki is the reason my friends and I are here, safe and surrounded by more magnificence than any of us have ever known.  
  
I thank Junko, who excuses herself to allow me time to get comfortable in my new quarters. Only when I am alone do I realize just how much has transpired in this single day. I seat myself on the plush lavender comforter of my new bed and simply gaze into nothingness, disbelief still somewhat evident in me. Dear gods, I am free. I am truly free. Even though I know this to be true, skepticism still clings tentatively to me like dust.  
  
But when I hear a knock at my door and the sound of my lover's deep, gentle voice, I finally believe that I am truly here in the seraglio, safe from everything that ever threatened me in my past. And the person whom I have to thank is just beyond my door, waiting for me.  
  
A/N: OK, I have some explaining to do on this chapter. Although some of you are basking in the glow of the new character I created, I know that some of you are probably wondering what in hell Tsuya has to do with my plot. Well, as I told you in my A/N last chapter, I created Tsuya for two main reasons (the third being an interesting subject over which Tansho and the other women can bond with lady Junko.)  
  
OK, reason number one: I have always wondered why Hotohori always seemed so sad and depressed in the series. It's partially explained by one of his advisors at some point in time, but I never rally thought it was practical. So I thought up my own idea of what might have happened to cause Hotohori so much pain and sorrow and why he's so withdrawn and sullen. I also thought it would tie in well with how Miaka and Hoki were able to reach him, help him fall in love again, and heal him in a way.  
  
Reason number two: For the last few chapters or so I have been hinting at Tansho's worry of being infected with some sort of sexually transmitted disease. I don't think I have to say how rampant they must have been in ancient times (whether in Asia, Europe, or wherever). I first hinted at it when she miscarried, and again when she was debating whether or not to accept Tasuki's proposal, and a final time when she heard about Tsuya. The creation of Tsuya's character was to "drive home" Tansho's worries (I know, I know, some more drama on its way).  
  
Also, I just adore developing new characters (even if their stories are sad), so I guess that's another reason for creating Tsuya. I don't plan on forgetting about her, though! I kinda like her.  
  
P.S. I have no idea in hell in the ancient Chinese did autopsies on corpses, but you must remember that the Universe of the Four Gods in only BASED on ancient China - it's not technically ancient China. Therefore, I can write about whatever the hell I want to, and it still be possible! ^_^  
  
Once again, thanks for all the great reviews. You're all so sweet to me. I don't deserve it!! ^_^ 


	49. Together in the Shadows of Beauty

Chapter 49  
Together in the Shadows of Beauty  
  
I'm quick in rushing to my door, my need to see Tasuki weighing on me like a heavy fog. I haven't realized how much I've missed him in the few hours we've been apart until I hear his impatient voice coming from the veranda, telling me that the maids are ogling him and to hurry and open the damn door. I stifle a giggle and quickly open my door to appease him. Overjoyed at seeing him again, I fling myself into his arms, earning a surprised grunt from him.  
  
"I take it you're happy," he replies once I've released him, a lop- sided grin spread across his ever-handsome face. Gods, even when he's a teetering old man of seventy, wrinkled and gray-haired, I believe with all my heart that I will still find him beautiful. The thought makes me smile with glee.  
  
He peeks around me, curious as to what my new chambers look like. An impressed whistle escapes his lips upon studying the extravagant surroundings. "Wow," he remarks, "Nice place, huh? Hell of a lot better than mine, that's for sure!" He looks down at me and gives me a wink, letting me know he's only teasing. Still, I can't help but play along.  
  
"You're not jealous, are you?" I ask innocently, slipping my hand into his to lead him into the bedroom.  
  
"Nah!" he answers nonchalantly, "I told them to give you and the other girls the best-and they did! As long as you're happy and comfy 'till I get back, I've got no complaints!" He stops me by pulling lightly on my hand, and surprises me with a swift motion of his arm, seizing me in his warm embrace. I fall into him happily, realizing how much I've missed the simple sensation of him hugging me. And to think that we won't be able to so much as speak to each other for the duration of the on-coming war is far too painful to give thought to. So I simply ignore it even though it is pressing on the corners of my mine. I lost him once, and by the grace of Suzaku he was returned to me, now I am about to lose him again, and I am sure only the combined grace of all the gods of Heaven will return him again. War is volatile and merciless. I could very much lose him forever.  
  
And yet I hold on to him as if we were preparing to spend the rest of our lives together.  
  
"Did things go well in the meeting with Chichiri and His Highness?" I inquire, curious as to what their strategy will be tomorrow. "Is everything prepared?"  
  
"Just about," he answers, tightening his hold on me as if the simple mention of the war could rip him from me. "Almost all of the army divisions are already positioned on the eastern border. We'll be leaving before dawn to join the reserves at the outskirts of the city. We'll travel in back until we reach the battlefields-I just hope Miaka stays put if any of us need to reposition at any time."  
  
"Lady Miaka?" I cry, looking up at him in surprise, "The Priestess? She's going with you?"  
  
"We've tried to persuade her to stay behind, but the stubborn little idiot is set on going with us. I just hope she'll stay put in the back, even though I highly doubt it," he remarks, gazing down at the ground in obvious worry.  
  
At hearing this, I'm suddenly struck with the idea to demand to go as well. If the Priestess is allowed to go, why the hell can't I?! I could take care of myself and not hinder any one; just as long as I'm allowed to be close to Tasuki, to know if he's still here in this world with me. But my better judgment helps me keep my mouth shut. He just risked his life fighting with Shingen to bring me and the other women here, the least I can do is thank him by doing all I can to remain out of harm's way. I can understand the Priestess's desire to be close to her warriors, but it would be foolish and selfish for me to go for the single reason of wanting to be close to Tasuki.  
  
"She's in good hands," I reply, looking up at his tanned face to offer a smile of comfort and encouragement. "She has nothing in the world to worry about."  
  
I know that both of us would like to believe my words, but it is near to impossible. Still, we allow slight smiles to pass over our faces before he sweeps me into his arms yet again.  
  
"Gods, I've missed you," he whispers into my hair, his voice deep and husky, suddenly making my skin flush with warmth. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck, breathing in my scent. "I still can't believe that you want to marry me," he remarks.  
  
"I do--more than anything," I answer, "Tonight, still?"  
  
He pulls away only slightly in order to catch a glimpse of my eyes. "Only if you are entirely sure, Tansho. I don't want to-"  
  
I bring my fingers to his lips to stop his words. He doesn't doubt my love. No, I know with all my heart that he feels my love more intensely than even the character on his forearm-the mark that is now gone due to the sealing away of our beloved god. What he doubts is my ability to become his wife, then watch him ride away into the depths of war, not knowing when I will see him again-or even if I will see him again at all. Like he told me in the carriage on the way to the palace-he doesn't wish to make me a widow before my time.  
  
"I will become your wife on only one condition," I reply sternly, my dark gray eyes settling on his. "If you swear to love me for as long as you live, then I will marry you without a single hesitation."  
  
My statement carries an obvious solemn connotation, and I know that he understands it. But our eyes still hold each other's affectionately, no anxiety, no bitterness towards our circumstances. We understand that tonight may be the only night we spend together as husband and wife, and yet the blunt realization of this doesn't seem to truly bother either of us. Both of our lives have been harsh and unpredictable, and yet we found each other in the midst of turmoil and fell in love in spite of numerous obstacles. And even though we have spent most of our time separated from each other, our intense passion has stayed alive. And we have somehow bonded to each other so that even though we are miles apart, our souls still find their way to each other over the mountains and oceans. Yes, I belong with him. And he belongs with me. If we have only one more night, than so be it. I will become the wife of the only man I've ever loved, and if I become a widow, than so be that as well.  
  
"I swear," Tasuki answers me, his voice just as firm as mine.  
  
This is all we need to know and to understand. All that is left to do is arrange a time and place for us to be married, and I'm quick to bring up that subject with a gentle smile to break to odd seriousness of our demeanors. I can tell that he is just as desperate to relapse into his usual nonchalant disposition.  
  
Upon a quick discussion of locations for the event, I mention the seraglio courtyard. "It's like nothing you've ever seen," I gush, "It's absolutely gorgeous!"  
  
"We've got plenty of time, Tan" he replies happily, "Let's go give it a look!"  
  
I balk slightly when he entwines his fingers with mine to pull me after him. He turns his head to look back at me, wondering at my sudden behavior. "What's the matter?" he asks, surprised.  
  
"You've-you've never--called me that before," I stutter. He's never before used any kind of pet name for me; just simply "Tansho". But I would be lying if I said I didn't like the sound of this plain but rather cute new name. Tan. I smile even though I'm still a bit shocked.  
  
"Call you what? Tan?" he asks, "You don't like it? It just kinda slipped out-I can call you by your full name if you want."  
  
"No, no," I quickly protest, shaking my head, "I like it; I've just never heard you call me anything but my whole name. But I don't mind at all!"  
  
"Good!" he retorts, squeezing my hand affectionately and pulling me out of my bedroom and into the tiny alcove of my quarters. Here, he pulls me into him yet again and seals his mouth over mine in a breathtaking, blazing kiss that leaves me motionless for a few moments before I'm able to find myself. I return his hungry kiss with as much intensity and fire in which he gave it; both relaxed and enamored by the familiar but missed sensation of his smooth lips spread over mine. I slide my hands around his shoulders, pulling him deeper into me, pressing us closer together. In only a few more moments, I expect us to be sprawled on the floor, our clothes in heaps beside us as we entangle ourselves after far too long of being apart. But somehow I find the self-restraint to pull away from him before I wrestle him to the floor. I give him a final peck on the lips before smiling wickedly at him.  
  
"Oh, that's just cruel," he protests quietly, pretending to be on the verge of tears.  
  
"Now, now," I whisper, leaning into him to run my lips gently over the curve of his chin and the pronounced edge of his jaw, "We have some work to do. We'll have plenty of time tonight after the ceremony."  
  
I watch as his eyes soften from the firm desire they once held. He understands what I want. It will be wonderful to make love again after so long of being separated-but it will be enhanced far more than we can imagine to make love on our wedding night.  
  
A few minutes later and we are walking slowly hand-in-hand down one of the many pathways that amble throughout the courtyard. We weave our way around the colossal magnolia trees, sometimes having to duck so as not the hit our heads on the outstretched, warped branches weighed down with the heavy white blossoms. The drooping arms of the willow trees sway in the late summer breezes, dipping into the tiny steams that nourish them. Tasuki and I reach the center of the garden where the fountain stands guarded by the gazebos. My eyes wander towards the largest gazebo without my realizing it, and I find myself remembering the sorrowful story of Lady Tsuya. I tear my eyes away from the beauty of her gravesite and gaze up at my lover through the shadows caused by the thick arms of the magnolia trees. He's studying the fascinating splendor of the fountain and the circle of gazebos that surround it, his lips curved in an appreciative smile at its grandeur.  
  
"How about here, Tan?" he asks, nodding at the nearest gazebo that stands on the west side of the fountain. He turns toward the west wall of the seraglio that separates it from the rest of the palace. "The sun will be setting over that wall-it'll be real pretty if we standing right here."  
  
My lips part in bemusement; I never would have imagined he'd think of something like that. But he's right; the sun will be setting right in front of this gazebo, and it will no doubt awash the courtyard in exotic reds and pinks-the colors of good fortune and happiness. I smile up at him.  
  
"How thoughtful," I remark, "I never would have though of something like that. It's perfect!"  
  
Pleased with himself, he grins pompously at me. I grin back.  
  
I suddenly feel tired even though I've hardly spent any time on my feet today. It is not a feeling of exhaustion; it's more like the desire to simply sit and relax in order to admire this gorgeous place. I move away from Tasuki towards one of the many magnolia trees. I would like to sit in the gentle shelter of one of the little gazebos, but I opt to let the thick, twisted branches of one of the magnolia trees protect me. I plop down quite unceremoniously by the trunk of the nearest tree and arrange my skirts around my legs, which are bent comfortably to the side to allow me to lean back against the firm tree. I sigh at the softness of the grass beneath me and the scent of the magnolia blossoms wafting down from the canopy over my head. I lift my head to call to Tasuki to come join me, but to my delighted surprise, he has already followed me to my little resting spot. I watch in interest as he eases himself to the ground a little more delicately than I bothered to do, and without warning, takes advantage of my invitingly soft lap. He leans back on the soft grass beneath the tree and rests his head on my thighs, arranging his arms comfortably on his stomach, and crossing his out-stretched legs.  
  
I giggle at how completely content he appears, a sly smile on his face, his eyelids drooped closed. "Well," I comment, "Why don't you just make yourself comfortable, my dear."  
  
"Why thank you very much, Tan baby," he retorts quietly, peeking up at me coyly with one open eye. I cannot rebuke him or his delightful charm. And I can't help but think of different he is from the man I first knew-the man who tried his damned hardest to stay away from me. I will never forget the stunned expression of his handsome face when I sat myself down in his slap that night at the tavern. And I especially will never forget his reaction to my brazen hand slipping beneath his overcoat and shirt to roam over his stomach. I grin at the memory and allow a chuckle to escape my lips. This catches his attention.  
  
"What're you laughing at?"  
  
"Nothing," I answer, "Just remembering when we first met."  
  
He gives a knowing laugh, and I suddenly realize that we never before really discussed our beginnings. Curious, I decide to inquire him on a few things that have passed through my mind lately.  
  
"Why did you fall in love with me?" I ask boldly, slipping my fingers into the silky strands of his hair splayed out onto my thighs. "I guess a better way to put that would be what made you want to take a chance on me?"  
  
His eyes open slowly and I watch as they narrow in thought. He angles his head upwards toward me. "You were-just-different, I guess you could say." I frown. I expected more than that. He catches my meaning and is quick to elaborate. "It's just that with every woman I've met since I left home, there was always something about them that reminded me of either my mother or my sisters. But there was absolutely nothing about you that made me think of them."  
  
I blink in astonishment. "Really?" I ask. "Nothing?"  
  
He shakes his head, rubbing my thighs gently with his fiery hair. "Nope!" Then he gives me a devious grin that makes me frown slightly in worry. "And I think that little trick you pulled in the tavern helped wake me up."  
  
"What trick?" I inquire curiously.  
  
"You know, when you plopped down in my lap and started groping the hell out of me right in front of Chichiri and Nuriko!"  
  
My fingers fly to my mouth. So he remembers that as vividly as I do. "I didn't grope you!" I quickly protest. "It's called 'caressing'."  
  
"Whatever the hell you call it -- you certainly did it good!"  
  
I can't help but giggle. And here I've thought all along that it irritated him what I did that night. But, according to his new revelation, it was quite the opposite.  
  
After the initial shock of finding out my sly little touches actually helped, I muse over what he told me earlier for a moment. I remember him telling me once that his main reason for disliking women so much is due to his female-dominated family and the high-maintenance personalities of his sisters. But was there really nothing about me that reminded him of them? I wore powder and lip rogue occasionally. Certainly that would bring up unhappy memories of his sisters perhaps torturing him with their cosmetics, forcing him to the ground to paint his lips bright red just to watch him squirm and beg to be let go. But no. He said there was nothing.  
  
"And what about you?" he suddenly asks, startling me from my thoughts. "What made you think of me as more than just another client?" His eyes are serious when they gaze at me, telling me that he had wondered this for quite a while now. "Why me and not another man? You must have known plenty who were different from all the others."  
  
"That's true," I reply, an image of Akahito's sun-darkened face flashing in front of me for a moment, "I have known many men who struck me as kind or gentle or genuinely loving. But it wasn't those things that drew me to you. I sensed something in you very strange-something I didn't quite understand at first. Now that I truly think about it, I believe that it was the spirit of Suzaku I felt in you. I knew somehow that you were entirely different than all the men I've known-you were both gentle and powerful, and you were passionate and mischievous. There are too many things to name. But I still sensed them all, and I realized that I would never have the chance to know another man quiet like you." I glance down at his curious face and trail my fingers through his thick hair again. "I couldn't pass that chance over-I think it was my only one."  
  
He looks up at me with satisfied eyes, and I can tell how deeply his soul is touched by what I just told him. Has no one else ever told him what a magnificent man he is? Am I the only one to have recognized the beauty and loving nature of his being? Certainly not-his Priestess and his fellow warriors must have felt it at some point in time. If they have not, they are fools.  
  
I lean down and brush a feathery kiss over his lips, letting my hair slip from behind my shoulders to tickle his face. He reaches a hand up and takes a strand of it between his fingers, tucking it behind my ear, then letting his fingertips brush over my cheek before falling onto his stomach again.  
  
"I've wanted to tell you something since I got back yesterday-I just haven't gotten a good opportunity yet until now," he replies, easing his way off my lap and sitting up in front of me.  
  
Intrigued, I'm quick to urge him on with a perplexing gaze.  
  
"Do you remember last night when I told you all that happened on our trip?" he begins. I nod silently. "Well, I didn't really tell you everything. When I got knocked off the ship while we were journeying to Hokkan, I sure as hell thought I was gonna drown. But right before Miaka jumped in to try to help me, I thought I saw you."  
  
I knit my eyebrows together in bewilderment. He saw me? In the ocean? My mind whirls, and I suddenly remember the strange dream that I had the night I lost our child, but the memory does more damage than good. The image of the blood-soaked bed linens causes me to suck in a deep breath and turn my face away, hoping he won't see my memory. I'm not yet ready to tell him. Not now. Not when he needs strength and faith. Hearing about my miscarriage will only hurt him; I cannot do that to him now. I compose myself quickly and angle my face towards his again. "What do you mean?" I whisper.  
  
"I just thought I saw your face in the waves, just beyond my reach. And I thought I heard you calling out to me," he answers, his voice slightly unsteady. "And then I thought I saw you again when Nuriko died. I was leaning up against a rock, crying my eyes out, and I could have sworn you were right there in front of me for just a few moments. Then you were gone."  
  
My heart begins to race madly in my chest. What happened that night? How is that I dreamed of him, and he saw visions of me in the exact places I dreamt him to be in? Did my soul travel over the ocean and lands to seek him out?  
  
"Those aren't the only times though, Tan," he continues, "We were in the Sairo desert, under Tomo's spell. It wasn't until days later that I found out all of us had been out there in the middle of the desert for days, slowly dying while our minds were trapped in Tomo's illusion. When we eventually came to, I thought I felt you for a moment before I totally woke up and realized where I was. And the last time was when Chiriko died. I was leaning over him and I felt something touch my hair, and it reminded me of how you would run your hands through my hair. I was sure that when I turned around, you'd be there standing over me. But you weren't."  
  
I lean my head back against the thick trunk of the magnolia tree, my heart pounding, my blood flowing insanely through my veins. Dear gods, what happened to us that night? How can it be explained? For a moment, I wrestle with myself, wondering if I should tell him about my dream. I saw him in all those places, I called out to him, I touched him, and yet I thought it was only a dream. Is it possible that my spirit escaped my body and reached him somehow?  
  
"I dreamt of you," I whisper, my eyes staring blindly into the beautiful shadows of the garden around us. "I saw you in the ocean, and sitting in the snow, in the desert, and with Chiriko." I meet his astounded gaze. "And I called out to you when you were in the water, and I tried to comfort you when you were weeping for Chiriko. I thought I was only dreaming. I thought you would never know I was there."  
  
He stares at me as if I am a witch, or a clairvoyant. And yet there is not fear or suspicion in his exotically beautiful eyes. There is what can only be called awe. And it is buried deep in his gaze, never to be uprooted. "How can that be?" he asks gently, lifting his hand and placing it over mine.  
  
I say the only thing that I know to say. "I missed you so much," I reply. "I guess we just missed each other too much to stay apart any longer."  
  
"Yeah," he answers weakly, as if it is only one of hundreds of answers. "I guess so."  
  
A/N: Well, as you can see, some loose ends are slowly but surely being tied up. But damn, it's hard keeping up with them some times. I actually have to keep tract of all the loose ends and when I plan on addressing them and tying them up in my "idea book" (where I write every idea, thought, etc. for all my writing). From one writer to another, trust me - write it down the minute it comes to you and your life will go a lot smoother. ^_^  
  
Anyways, sorry for the tangent. Ok, so Tasuki and Tansho have discussed the wedding and everything's set! But will they have a chance to enjoy it with the war looming in the distance?  
  
Thanks a bunch for all the great reviews. I'm ecstatic every time you guys mention anything about my fic that you liked. It makes me feel very fulfilled as a writer. I'm going to be so sad when this story is completed, but I'm definitely going to feel like I've contributed to the world of writing. ^_^  
  
Oh, P.S, I'm very sorry for the late update, but as I warned last chapter, my schedule is starting to really get freaked up. I'm about to start a part-time job, too, and I can only imagine what that's gonna do to my writing habits. But I'll cross that bridge when I get there. ^_^ 


	50. Sunset Wedding

A/N: Hey there my darling readers!! Here is the chapter you've been waiting for since Tansho and Tasuki first met ^_^ (Well, maybe not.) Anyways, do enjoy your reading experience! P.S. If any of you would like to know more about the traditional Chinese wedding ceremony, see the author's note at the end of this chapter for more info! ^_^ Oh, and I need to thank all of you for the reviews! I've got over 400!! Dear god that's a lot of reviews! ^_^  
  
Chapter 50  
Sunset Wedding  
  
We leave the shadows and heavenly smells of the courtyard garden behind us. Although still perplexed and dazed by the revelation of my dream and his mystic visions, we are able to part ways again for the few hours it will take to arrange our somewhat sudden marriage. He has already asked Chichiri to oversee the ceremony, and now that we know where and what time it will be held, he must search out the Priestess, His Highness, Lady Hoki, and the other warriors to invite them to join us in the seraglio garden at sunset. I, of course will be off soon to invite Koi, Misa, Okichi, Lady Junko, and the other courtesans. Both Tasuki and I decided a small amount of guests would be better concerning the somewhat unorthodox way in which our wedding will be held.  
  
I watch as he strolls off in the direction of the gates, turning around once to give me a mischievous wink. I blow him a playful kiss in return, which makes him chuckle. Although the eerie conversation we had only minutes earlier is still heavy on our minds and hearts, it has never been natural for us to dwell on the unhappy or disturbing. The both of us are spirited and jovial in nature. It is these traits of mine that have seemed to keep me alive for the last five years. Although my sense of humor has seemed to suffer the worst in the past few months, it is well on its way to being healed now that my lover has returned.  
  
When he has disappeared from my sight, I clamber up the wooden steps to the veranda of the building myself and the other women are staying in and rush as gracefully as I can manage to Koi's room. I can tell by the low position of the sun that it is well past the fifth hour of the afternoon. Although the sun will not slip below the horizon until close to the ninth, this leaves Tasuki and I little time to arrange our wedding. I knock on my dearest friend's door and am surprised to see a lady wearing a shockingly beautiful over robe of jade green silk, under which nestles an equally gorgeous under robe the color of snow. Around her waist is a lavender cord, from which dangles several jade pendants that bob against her shapely thighs. The lady giggles at my shocked expression, and I lift my eyes to see Koi's vibrant golden hair bouncing happily around her perfect face.  
  
"Look!' she cries, taking my hands and pulling me through her door into a small alcove similar to the one in my chambers. "Look at what Lady Junko gave me as a welcome gift!" She spreads the snowy skirts of her under robe out and twirls around like a little girl, showing off her lovely outfit. I watch in admiration; the soft green and creamy colors truly accentuate Koi's bold golden hair. "And there are more in the wardrobe!" she continues jovially, "Dozens of different colors! I don't give a damn if they belonged to a courtesan before I got them! They're gorgeous!"  
  
I grin at how happy she is. She skips into her bedroom and spreads her arms out over her head. "Can you believe this? This room alone is bigger that the house I was born in!" Suddenly her face softens from the excited smile that had been spread across it since I first walked in. Her eyes gleam at me, their soft blue hue weighting on my heart. "How can I ever thank you, Tansho?" she replies sheepishly, walking back to where she left me standing in her alcove. "Without you, I would be lost."  
  
My darling Koi. My dearest friend. She doesn't know this, but without her I would be lost. I gather her into my arms and laugh gently into her hair. "Just be happy," I answer, "That's all the thanks I need." She gratefully returns my embrace and rests her head on my shoulder momentarily before backing away and inquiring me with knowing eyes.  
  
"So what have you been up to since we arrived?" she asks.  
  
I grin without realizing it. "Planning," I answer truthfully.  
  
"Planning what?" she retorts.  
  
"My wedding."  
  
He face goes blank, and I cannot help but laugh at her bewildered expression. "Your what?" she cries, shaking her head.  
  
"My wedding," I repeat, "Tasuki and I are getting married tonight."  
  
Koi opens her mouth as if to chide me, but I see her think differently of it. Instead, she opts to prop her hands on her plump hips and gaze at me with her brazen, inquisitive eyes. "And just how long have you been planning this?"  
  
Refusing to be intimidated by my friend's teasing but obviously daunting posture and tone of voice, I see myself into her sleeping chambers and take the opportunity to compare it with my own. "Just today," I reply plainly, running my fingers carefully over the smooth wood of her new wardrobe.  
  
"Tansho," she hisses, though not menacingly, "This is serious! You're really going to marry him?" I turn to look at her, stunned by the strange chill of her voice. I see her blink under my hard stare, obviously sorry for the shrewd remark. "I know you love him, Tansho-but-but he's going to war soon. You'll be separated for who knows how long. It nearly killed you the last time he left. Can you go through that again, knowing that it's your husband who's away and not just your lover any more?"  
  
I suddenly realize that she's concerned for me, not doubtful of my decision to marry Tasuki. She's right. She saw the suffering I went through during those three months he was away doing his duty to his god and his priestess. But if I survived it once, I sure as hell can survive it again. And I told him I would marry him if he swore to love me until the day he died. He swore, and so I am already bound to him. I bound myself to him long ago; how else did my spirit follow him over the oceans and lands?  
  
"Yes," I answer her, my voice stern but still soft enough to let her know I'm not angry, "I will endure hell again if I must. It can't be that bad the second time around." She frowns at my blunt, irreverent joke. But then lifts s corner of her shapely lips into a lop-sided smile, unable to resist my eccentric charm.  
  
"You have my blessings then," she sighs, opening her arms to invite me into them. I'm grateful for her embrace of acceptance, but still doubtful of her trust in my actions. As if reading my mind, she's quick to continue. "I just don't want to see you so sad again. It broke my heart, Tansho. But you're so happy when you're with him-so I guess this is meant to happen." I smile and squeeze her tightly to let her know I agree with all my heart.  
  
"Thank you," I whisper.  
  
"Still a little sudden though," she remarks playfully, "But I guess, considering the circumstances, that couldn't really be helped." She pulls away to give me a wink. "I'll go tell Misa and Okichi."  
  
"Thanks. I'm off to tell Lady Junko and the other courtesans. They should be having tea soon in the courtyard," I reply.  
  
"At least no one's going to be moping around tonight, thinking about going off to war tomorrow," Koi remarks with a shrug.  
  
"Yeah," I agree, "I suppose it will take our minds off what's to come." I pause to muse on this for a moment. I truly do hope the cheerful air tonight will help everyone forget for a few hours the oncoming war. It may end up saving some of us.  
  
It would be an understatement to say lady Junko and the other courtesans were excited to be invited to Tasuki's and my wedding. The way they carried on and on about it made it clear to me that the life they had lived inside the harem was sheltered and isolated. People were married every day outside the palace walls (though most of the brides were not once prostitutes, and most of the bride grooms were not celestial warriors of a phoenix deity). Still, I was more than happy to allow them to chatter happily with me, asking me what I will be wearing, what they should wear and so on. I sat with them for a while in the gazebos, sipping tea and nibbling as daintily as my hunger would allow on the sweet dumplings. Koi, Misa, and Okichi joined us soon, all of them as excited as the courtesans over the impending wedding, though of course more concerned for my welfare considering how long they have known me and the seriousness of what I am about to do.  
  
But the sun began to set, and I hurried back to my room, my friends at my heels, to make myself as presentable as possible for a woman who just learned she was to be a bride mere hours before the ceremony. I loathed to part with my mother's crimson and onyx-colored gown. Although I had worn it all day, and the ruffled hem of the under robe was a bit dusty, it still shone in beauty far above any of the other lovely gowns Junko had left as a welcoming gift. I only hoped that she would not be offended that I didn't choose one of them.  
  
Koi slipped the ruby-encrusted hairclip from my hair, the one Tasuki had given to me, in order to brush out my tangled mahogany locks. She then arranged it a bit more intricately, in honor of the significant occasion of my wedding, by piling half of my long locks carefully atop my head in a neat chignon and pinning it in place with the golden and ruby clip. This left delicate waves of dark brown hair cascading down my back. She then selected a couple of golden hairpins from the few I had packed from the tavern, pushing them gently into the base of the chignon to allow the elegant ivory jasmine flowers dangling from their tips to sway along with the waves of my loose hair. After carefully painting my lips with a hint of rogue, I was awe-struck at my reflection in the mirror. If no one was the wiser about my past, I would seem no different than any of the other noble ladies of Konan. I could not help but smile.  
  
But as I stand here now, facing Tasuki in the blood-red shadow of the dying sun, our friends surrounding us as if protecting us from evil spirits, I am more than happy to smile. Chichiri is with us beneath the beauty of the western gazebo, now seeming to be on fire with the rays of the setting sun, holding a silver tray on which two small bowls of tea sit. The presence of the people with us is overwhelmingly comforting, as if their souls are whispering silent prayers for us. I sense the smiles of my dear friends, and realize how badly I wish Asako were here to share this with us. And I sense the spirit of Suzaku in this place, and wonder if it because of the presence of His Priestess and warriors, or the scarlet color of the setting sun-his color. The color of love, the color of blood, the color of passion, the color of my lover's hair, the color of beginning and end. I am sure that if I turn my head only slightly I will catch a glimpse of crimson feathers. But my eyes remain connected with Tasuki's, unable to move at all. The way he is gazing at me makes my skin flush with blood, my heart thunder behind my ribs, my breath flow like the north wind. And I wonder if the intensity of my eyes is doing the same to him. At Chishiri's direction, we reach out simultaneously and grasp each other's hands.  
  
There were no letters sent to ask for my hand in marriage, there were no gifts or dowry, there is no red veil to shield my face from my bridegroom's gaze, there is no mother at my side, and there is no mother at Tasuki's side. To all high-society of Konan, our wedding is a joke, one not to be taken seriously, one not even considered legal. To those who believe in tradition over love, it would be more acceptable for Tasuki and I to live together in a common-law marriage rather than partake in this seemingly disrespectful ceremony, mocking custom. And yet those who care for us are surrounding us in the gorgeous light of the scarlet sunset, and they care only that we love each other, not that we break custom by the alleged heterodoxy of our wedding. Unconsciously, I lift my head in pride. To hell with custom!  
  
"Praise be to the Heavens and all that dwell therein," Chichiri announces reverently, beginning the ceremony.  
  
"Praise be to the Heavens and all that dwell therein," Tasuki and I repeat in unison, although his heavy accent causes him to fall slightly behind me. I quickly repress the urge to giggle since this is the most deferential part of the wedding ceremony and would not tolerate any disrespect, whether it be good-natured or not.  
  
Our guests repeat after us in quiet voices, and Chichiri continues.  
  
"Praise be to the Earth and all that dwell herein," he replies, his tone of voice still heavily respectful.  
  
"Praise be to the Earth and all that dwell herein," we reiterate as smoothly and in sync as we can manage. As before, our guests repeat after us.  
  
"Tasuki," Chichiri replies, his voice having returned to its usual upbeat tone now that the most reverential phase of the ceremony has passed, "Please bow to Tansho in honor of her ancestors, and repeat after me." My red-haired beloved obeys, releasing my hands to bow deeply before me. He rises, and once he has taken my lonely hands in his again, repeats the monk's words.  
  
"I give homage to the mothers and fathers before you, and to those that shall come after."  
  
I smile in return, and straighten my back when Chichiri ceremoniously calls on me to do the same as Tasuki. "I give homage to the mothers and fathers before you, and to those that shall come after," I reply timidly after bowing to him. He is eager to grasp my hands again, telling me he is as comforted by my touch as I am at this point in time. His beauty is almost unbearable in the glowing crimson light of the sun.  
  
"Please take the cup on the right, Tansho," Chichiri replies happily, lifting the tray until it is hovering between Tasuki and I. "Tasuki, please take the left one."  
  
"You now bind yourselves to each other before the Heavens and the Earth and all that dwell within them. May good fortune, happiness, prosperity, and a long marriage be yours!" Chichiri announces enthusiastically, nodding to each of us. We hesitate, unsure if there is anything else left to say. The monk frowns impatiently. "You can go ahead and drink, you know!"  
  
Relieved that there is nothing else to repeat or no one else to honor, Tasuki and I heartily down the sweet warmth of the tea in a single gulp. When we finish, and realize that the ceremony is over, we can hardly contain ourselves. Like excited children, we fall into each other's arms, earning a good-natured chuckle from our guests who are now clapping happily for our new union. I slip my arms around my husband's neck and pull him down into me, pressing my lips eagerly to his, relaying all my happiness and excitement through the ardor of my kiss. I feel his arms wrap securely around me, pulling our bodies close together in the scarlet glow of the setting sun. It will be gone soon, but it matters little to me now. I finally have a feeling of complete happiness, not an emotion similar to it that is tainted gently with sorrow or uneasiness or anger. All that flows through my veins in perfect euphoria, something that I have never had the privilege to experience.  
  
We pull away to smile at each other giddily, then turn into the waiting arms and happy congratulations of our friends. I never knew such peace existed in the world. This feeling I have, embracing my dearest friends, accepting the excited hugs of the beautiful courtesans, bowing timidly to the young Priestess before having her embrace me wholly as if she's known me her entire life-this is what I know my life will contain for however long the gods choose to let me remain on the earth. This is what I had so long ago when my mother still lived, this is what I lost the day Shingen hoisted me into his rickety cart to carry me into the capital. This is what my beloved warrior, my darling Tasuki, returned to me. And as our eyes seek each other's out in the ocean of our friends, I pray that he knows how thankful I truly am, how much I love him, and how much I will love him until the day we are parted in this world only to be reunited in the next.  
  
I make my way to the emperor who is talking softly with Lady Hoki, their hands entwined. If it were not for the scarlet pendant that rests between my breasts, then I would not even be here. Before I forget, and before he leads his empire in war tomorrow, I must return the thing that saved my life. I approach my emperor meekly, my head bowing slightly in respect.  
  
"Highness,' I reply, slipping the brown velvet cord over my head and holding out the heavy metal medallion to him, "I thank you for giving this to me. It saved my life once, and I will never forget your kindness."  
  
The expression in his powerful golden eyes is breathtaking when he gazes down at me gently. "It is yours to keep, Miss Tansho," he answers sternly, and yet with a delicate softness to his voice that has always been there. "You never know when you may need it again." He reaches his hand out to my out-stretched one, and curls my fingers over the warm metal of the Seal. Astounded, I press the medallion to my heart and bow deeply before him, then bow to the Lady Empress, who stands patiently at his side.  
  
"I thank you with my heart and soul, Highness."  
  
"And I congratulate you on your marriage, Tansho!' he replies happily, smiling down at me warmly. "I wish you and Tasuki all the happiness and love either of you can withstand!"  
  
"As do I!" Lady Hoki pipes up giddily, making me smile.  
  
I bow again in respect. "I thank you again, Highness. And I thank you as well, Lady Empress. Your wishes have already befallen me it seems, for I believe I have never been happier in my life."  
  
Lady Hoki steps up to me and gently lays her soft hands on my shoulders to pull me into a quick but heartfelt embrace. "I am overjoyed for you, Tansho," she whispers, "We are kindred souls, you and I. We both love men destined for a life of glory and power, and possibly sorrow, and yet we love them just the same."  
  
She pulls away and I gaze thoughtfully into her lavender eyes for a moment, pondering her words. But then a shout comes from the din of laughing, spirited voices behind us.  
  
"Everyone!" Lady Junko announces loudly, trying to lift her voice above the good-natured clambering of our guests. "If everyone would please quiet down-" I see her pretty face flush with irritation. "Everyone hush!" she finally yells as respectfully as possible, her hands propped impatiently above her long legs. "The seraglio servants have prepared a small feast in honor of Master Tasuki and Lady Tansho. If you would please follow me to the dining hall, then we could begin!"  
  
Tasuki makes his way over to me as our guests follow obediently after their hostess, still chattering happily. I slip my hand into his playfully and nudge him with my shoulder.  
  
"Hungry?" I whisper to him, my eyes still following the small crowd of people, all of whom seem eager for a freshly cooked meal.  
  
"Nope," he answers matter-of-factly, "You?"  
  
I tilt my head skywards to give him a cunning look. "A little-but nothing I can't take care of later." At this, he grins wildly at me, and doesn't waste any time in pulling me gently towards my room. But I pull back on his eager tugs, a different idea suddenly popping into my head.  
  
It's about time I teach him something. Perhaps it will make me feel a little better when he leaves tomorrow; it was one of the things, as a matter of fact, that kept me terrified during the time he journeying with his Priestess and fellow warriors.  
  
"I have something better we can do," I say suggestively. He frowns, puzzled.  
  
"What the hell could be better than-"  
  
I stop him with a quick pat of my fingertips on his lips. "Calm down," I laugh, tracing the shape of his mouth with my forefinger, "And just trust me. I promise you'll get what you've been wanting."  
  
He sighs heavily and mumbles beneath my fingertips. "You have no idea!" I give a breathy chuckle at his charming impatience and slip my hand into his again, preparing to lead him to the imperial docks on the south side of the palace. We will be greeting the ocean soon.  
  
A/N: Ahhh! Another happy chapter for once in my angst-ridden career. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed that sap-filled ceremony (I really loved writing it). I'm just adding on this little author's note to kinda give you some info on the traditional Chinese wedding if you're wondering how much of my research I actually incorporated in this. Well, considering the special circumstances of my story that would have most likely been taken into consideration thousands of years ago in China, I have not stuck with every detail and custom of a traditional wedding ceremony. My first reason is that the storyline and certain circumstances of "Tansho" would never allow me to incorporate every minute detail even if I wanted to (it would just be impossible for an aspiring writer such as myself to pull off ^_^) The second reason is the fact that Yuu Watase based The Universe of the Four Gods on ancient China, but it isn't really ancient China (actually, Hokkan was based on Mongolia)-therefore I can screw up the traditional Chinese wedding as much as I damn well please! ^_^. But I will tell you the main points of the traditional Chinese wedding that is still followed today in high-class society just as closely as it was thousands of years ago.  
  
There is a customary way in going about a Chinese wedding-it is known as "The three letters and six etiquette", an extremely detailed and tedious string of events and customs that make up the traditional Chinese wedding. Tansho briefly touches on a few of these in a paragraph of her thoughts, though not in detail (basically only to voice her opinion on silly rituals that focus more on tradition that love). And I only slightly made reference to "the three letters" in my story, because they deal with the families of the bride and groom (and I think you all understand my reasons for skipping that part seeing as both Tansho and Tasuki have certain family problems at this time in their lives.) Basically all that goes on is formal requests for marriage by the groom's family for the bride in the form of a letter, a "gift" letter in which gifts for the bride are listed, and the acceptance letter from the bride's family. Now comes the annoyingly intricate part. "The six etiquette" deal with the events before, during, and after the wedding itself-a few examples being the groom coming to get his bride, the consultation of a fortune teller, the actual wedding ceremony, the preparation of the bridal bed, and so on and so on, blah blah blah. I skipped over a shit-load of that in the story (for obvious reasons), and went straight to the ceremony, which was open to pretty much whatever the hell I wanted to do with it.  
  
The traditional format of the Chinese wedding ceremony is as follows: paying respect to the Heavens and Earth, paying respect to the bride and groom's ancestors, and serving tea to the families of the bride and groom in order of their status in the family (i.e.: mother first, followed by father.etc). It was interesting to find out through my research that there was no priest, no rings, or even any vows such as in a traditional Western- like wedding. Cool, huh? And as you can see from my story I improvised a bit in places and added in my own little part of the ceremony since neither Tansho not Tasuki's families are present.  
  
Now with that over, I've also decided to answer a few of my latest reviews since I've been so damn busy lately and haven't had the time. Ok, here we go -  
  
Kitty Lynne: You, my dear friend, have got to be my best reviewer. You're always so complimentary, but you have also brought to my attention several times things that could use improvement. So, I want to say thank you for everything you've done. And I also want you to know that I consider you one of my best friends, Lynne! Oh, and in answer to your question about whether or not Tansho and Miaka will be meeting soon - they already have! Don't you remember before Tasuki and the others were leaving for Hokkan, and Tansho was introduced to everyone? Well, I never really created a dialogue between Tansho and Miaka, but they did meet (and will meet again in the future! ^_^)  
  
Spork Warrior Kore: Thank you so much for all your great compliments. I'm glad that reading "Tansho" has moved you so much emotionally. That's what I aim for when I write - giving my readers something that moves them and makes them think.  
  
I also need to formally apologize for how long it took to finally post chapter 49. I'm in the process of beginning a new job and simultaneously picking out and scheduling my classes for next semester, so I'm sure you guys can understand my time problem. But things will start leveling out again soon and I promise that I'll get back on track. I think I hate it more than you guys do when I'm late updating (no new reviews to read! ^_^)  
  
I think this is the longest damn A/N ever written by anyone ^_^. I've just not been communicating with you guys lately and I really wanted to start talking with you again! Though I promise my future A/N's will not be as long (or possibly longer than) the actual chapter. ^_^ See ya'll later! Love ya! 


	51. Into the Depths of the Sea

Chapter 51  
Into the Depths of the Sea  
  
The sun has set, but I know that I will never forget it. I was married beneath it, bathed in its blood-red glow, and it has been burned in my heart forever. I still can't believe Tasuki suggested we have the ceremony at sunset for the simple reason of being in the presence of its beauty. My beloved has always been strangely romantic considering his usually aggressive and boisterous personality, but my soul was moved beyond comprehension when he suggested we get married at sunset in the seraglio courtyard.  
  
I keep my fingers firmly entwined with his in case he doubts me and feels the need to escape from wherever he thinks I'm taking him. If he only knew, then perhaps he would want to flee. But I feel the relentless need to teach him something before he leaves me tomorrow. Even though I already know he will resist me until the very end, I am determined to teach Tasuki how to swim. And I will succeed, no matter how much he cusses and pleads. I grin cunningly, glad that my face is partially obscured by the dense night that has followed the setting sun. Only the edge of the city is still tinted red, telling me that the fullness of night is close.  
  
I lead him silently through the courtyards and gates of the palace, surprised that I remember so clearly the way to the palace docks considering I only visited them once. He tries to pry our destination out of me, but I only fling suggestive grins over my shoulder, fooling him into thinking that I'm as amorous as he is. What my poor husband doesn't yet know is that he'll have to learn how to swim before he gets what he wants- and no doubt probably needs very badly considering the time we've been separated. I, of course, am just as eager to get my new husband alone in my bedroom to ravish as I have been doing only in my dreams for so long. I feel guilty for a moment, thinking that I'm duping him, but when I hear the calming sighs of the ocean waves just ahead of us, I forget all thoughts and focus on the task at hand. I already foretell how difficult it will be to get Tasuki into the water, but I'm not worried-I have a strategy sure to lure him in eventually. Even if he truly wanted to, I doubt I could resist.  
  
I slow our pace down now that we are close, and suddenly I'm pulled to a halt by Tasuki. I turn around to glance at him and see an expression of dread in his eyes-and a hint of betrayal when he looks down at me, obviously wondering why in hell I've seemingly led him to the edge of hell. I sigh and tug at his hand with both of mine, unnerved.  
  
"Hell no!" he protests loudly, shaking his head. "I love you, Tan- but hell no!"  
  
"Please, my darling?" I purr, slowly pulling him along after me. After a few more minutes, I've managed to make it to the flight of wooden steps beside the docks that lead down to the beach. It is a somewhat difficult job to get him down the rickety steps, but once again, I somehow manage. The heels of his black boots dig ferociously into the thick sand once we reach our destination, desperate to stop.  
  
"N-no!" he cries again, trying to pull against me without harming me in the process. I refuse to give in, even though I sympathize with his fear. But soon, it is impossible to make him budge an inch further. He may not have his celestial powers, but his strength as a normal man still outweighs my own by far. His eyes are wild and glazed, and his hand trembles slightly within mine. The poor darling.  
  
Finally, when I realize I won't be able to drag him any closer without having to physically fight him, I drop his hand and stand forlornly in front of him. The docks are to the right of us, their heavy wooden planks and support beams are above our heads, casting shadows onto the dark beach. The fleet of ships rock lazily in the gentle churn of the sea, their hulls groaning with every dip and rise. Behind us looms the southeast wall of the palace, a comforting presence. The top rim of the moon is beginning to peek above the dark sapphire waves in the distance. I turn slightly to look at it, appreciating its hypnotic beauty. The waves of the sea are calm and smooth, lapping gently against the shore a few feet away from us. The dying glow of the sun shines upon them, reflecting off their surface and shimmering exotically in the darkening sky. I'm entranced, and for a moment I forget why I came here. It is not until I hear the soft hiss of sand beneath boots that I realize Tasuki is trying to make his get away while I'm preoccupied with the beauty of the water. I swing around to see him with his back to me, walking as silently as possible back towards the docks, most likely begging Suzaku that I don't see him. But the phoenix deity is on my side, and I am quick to catch my retreating lover before he can even step onto the wooden stairs leading back up to the docks.  
  
"Oh, no you don't!" I tease, grabbing his shoulders from behind and spinning him around. I look him square in the eyes, tired of battling and pleading. "You will learn to swim tonight, whether you want to or not!" I announce boldly, meaning every word I say. I am prepared to threaten him if I must-though with what, I'm not exactly sure. I slip my hands over his shoulders and wrap them around the nape of his neck, pulling him down to my level.  
  
"Tan," he moans, "Please don't make me! Can't we just go back to the palace and celebrate our wedding?"  
  
"No!" I retort firmly. But then I soften my voice for what I say next to keep his trust. "I don't want you to leave tomorrow not knowing how to swim. I know you may think its wasted knowledge seeing as you may never even see a pond while you're in battle." I pause for effect. "But there are plenty of things that could happen, Tasuki. You never know when or where knowing how to swim could save your life-or someone else's."  
  
His eyes soften even though he's still gazing at me in dread. He understands my concern, and for a moment I believe that he will relent and allow me to tutor him. But then he pulls away from me, backing towards the steps. "I know, Tan," he replies, trying to sound apologetic, "But I can't go in there." He motions toward the ocean in front of us, and I suddenly remember his near-drowning experience during his travels to Hokkan and Sairo. I place my hands on my hips. This only solidifies my worry, and makes me that much more determined. All right then, I guess I must revert to temptation to get him into the water.  
  
I blow him a kiss and give him a slight wave with my hand, turning around and strolling back down to the shoreline. "That's fine!' I call over my shoulder. "I'm just going for a quick swim. I'll meet you back in the seraglio."  
  
I find a couple of large rocks near the waterline and plop down on the highest one. I pull my slippers off and arrange them beside me on the smaller rock before reaching my hands up to my hair and beginning work on pulling out the hairpins and undoing the chignon. Once my hip-length tresses are free and blowing lazily in the ocean breeze, I place all my hair ornaments inside my slippers to keep from losing any of them. I stand up, my bare feet sinking deliciously into the cool sand, and begin untying my sash. As it slips off, I turn around to see my husband watching me quite intently. A victorious smile spreads across my face as I unwrap my girdle and slip my maple leaf embroidered over robe off my shoulders. I fold each article of clothing carefully, not wanting to soil it in the sand or wrinkle it, and place them on the rock I was previously seated on. As the crimson under robe slips from my shoulders and down my arms, I watch in satisfaction as the glow of Tasuki's eyes intensifies. I suppose what I am doing could be considered cheating, but I don't give a damn. Slowly, and probably against his knowledge, he is walking towards me-and towards the water. Now fully naked, I fold my under robe and place it atop the rest of my clothing before sauntering down to the water only a few feet away, making sure to give my hips a bit more of a swing than usual.  
  
A wave surges into the shoreline, flowing over my bare feet. I walk deeper into the cool water, letting the sea slowly flow around my ankles, my knees, my thighs, my hips, until I'm waist-deep in the salty water. Only now do I turn around and see my beloved standing forlornly where I once stood, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed as if accuses me of something. I try to hold it back, but I only end up laughing harder. He tenses as if I am mocking him, and only then do I realize that I am in a way.  
  
"What's the matter, my darling?" I call out over the soft rumblings of the waves rolling into the shore.  
  
"That's not fair!" he calls back, crossing his arms over his chest like a little child.  
  
Ignoring his complaint, I fill the palms of my hands with seawater and lift them to my chest, where I allow the water to trickle down the valley of my sternum and over the full mounds of my naked breasts. His burning eyes narrow even more, and for a moment I think I hear a growl penetrate the air. Could he truly be mad at me? I cock my head and reach my hands up to my hair, knowing that I am blatantly teasing him now. But he is closer to the water, is he not? Smiling, I turn my back on him and continue slowly wetting myself with my hands.  
  
An exasperated sound fills the air and, surprised, I turn around to see Tasuki madly stripping his clothes away. His heavy black boots land with a thump as he pulls them off and throws them to the sand. His over coat is next to be shed, followed by his white under shirt and tan trousers. Before I know what is happening, he is splashing through the shallow water, his naked body gleaming in the moonlight. Unabashed, I take the opportunity to give him a swift once-over, my gaze drifting between his thighs just before he reaches me. Still shocked by his sudden appearance, I don't resist as he curls one arm beneath my knees, the other around my back, and lifts me playfully into the air, holding me tight against his chest. When my senses finally return to me, I find him gazing down at me, a look of defeat on his handsome face. But I also detect a hint of amusement in his radiant eyes, not to mention the burning glow of desire that has resided there ever since he returned yesterday.  
  
"You wanted me in the water," he replies coolly, "So I'm in the water."  
  
I smirk at him, and give him a quick peck on the cheek. "And I'm very proud of you, my darling. But now, if you would kindly let my down, we could begin your lessons." The cunning mixture of emotions of his face vanishes, and he stares at me like I'm a demon sent to destroy him. "Now, now," I whisper, running a hand through his unruly hair. "You must trust me if we are to get anywhere." I gaze at him seriously and intently, letting him know that there is to be no more play until I am satisfied. "Please, Tasuki. Just trust me."  
  
"Alright," he answers after only a moment of hesitation. Bewildered, but relieved nevertheless at his quick submission, I keep still as he lowers me gently back into the water, then snakes an arm around my waist to keep me close. "Whenever you're ready, Tan."  
  
Suspicious at his unusual display of compliance, I pull away from him gently and walk deeper into the water. Is he truly surrendering, or only playing at it? But my doubts are put to rest when I see the calm expression on his face-a look of pure faith. Is it possible that all I needed to do was ask him to trust me? Was he truly afraid before that? Determined now more than ever, I beckon him to come closer to me, deeper into the water. Undaunted, he obeys, and follows after me until we are up to our shoulders, our feet buried deep in the soft sand beneath the waves.  
  
I give him a smile to tell him that I plan on getting him out of this ocean alive, and begin my first lesson. "The first thing you must learn before actually learning to swim," I announce, "Is to simply float."  
  
Intrigued, he raises an eyebrow. "I can do that, no problem!" he says, giving me a half-smile.  
  
"Well, go on then," I challenge, "Lie on your back and just float around for a few minutes to get the feel of the water."  
  
He eases back into the water as if expecting it to completely hold all of his weight, and is promptly dunked beneath the gentle waves by his own movements. He resurfaces, sputtering and coughing, and it is obvious that I have a lot of work to do.  
  
I want to tease him, but he has my trust now, and I do not plan on damaging it with mocking words. Instead, I shift my body until I'm behind him, then lay my hand softly on his shoulders. "Try again," I urge gently. "Your body isn't going to remain completely out of the water, but even if it feels like you're about to sink, you really aren't if you just lie still and let the water do all the work. Now, just fall back into me." He turns his head and I give him a reassuring smile before he obeys and leans gently into my chest. I slip my hands beneath his shoulders to ease his descent and coach him in how to lift his legs and spread his arms. When we're both sure that he won't slip beneath the surface, I move from behind his head to his side and slip my forearms under his back to help hold some of his weight. I feel him relaxing after only a few moments as he becomes accustomed to the swaying sensations of floating. His eyelids droop closed and a small smile shapes his lips.  
  
"This is kinda nice," he comments.  
  
"Mm-hmm," I muse, smiling at the lax expression on his face. Slowly, so he won't feel it, I slide my hands out from beneath him and allow him to float freely. I'm pleased when he doesn't even realize that I'm not helping him any longer. It means that he's learning.  
  
"Are you ready to learn something else?" I ask after a few more quiet minutes.  
  
"Sure!" he replies with surprising enthusiasm, "You can let go of me now."  
  
"I let go of you a long time ago," I answer merrily.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
In mere seconds, he's submerged again and resurfacing. Coughing and glaring at me, he frowns. "What the hell?"  
  
"You did it to yourself," I say calmly before he can shoot off any accusations. "You were doing fine until you realized I wasn't there helping you. You're not helpless, you know." I frown to accentuate my point. "Now, do it again without my help."  
  
He coughs up the last of the water and obeys me quicker than I expected him to, leaning back into the water, lifting his legs, and spreading his arms wide. To my satisfaction, he doesn't sink again, but floats very nicely. "Good!" I reply, moving to his side again, "Now we can move on to the more difficult techniques."  
  
For the better part of an hour, I demonstrate different swimming methods to him, starting with the more simple techniques of dog-paddling and treading water, and to my great satisfaction, he picks up on each of them extremely fast and efficiently. After only another hour, he is diving beneath the waves and swimming under water, resurfacing only to continue swimming by arching his arms over his head and kicking his feet swiftly- exactly as I taught him to do mere minutes earlier.  
  
Pleased at what a quick learner he is, I watch in admiration as his sleek body plunges beneath the surface and rises again and again. His soaked hair plasters to his cheek and forehead, and his chest glistens in the shimmer of the moonlight. I am more than ready to consummate our marriage, and by the way he slides his hands over my naked body beneath the water whenever we're between lessons, I can tell that he is too.  
  
We swim together for a little longer, both of us able to enjoy the water now that we're both more than comfortable in it.  
  
"I should've learned how to do this a long time ago," my husband comments, swimming up behind me and wrapping an arm playfully around my waist.  
  
"I'm glad you didn't," I reply, "Do you remember when we were on the docks, just before you left for Hokkan?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, I told you that since you didn't know how to, I was going to have fun being the one to teach you how to swim. And I have!"  
  
He pulls me back into his chest and nuzzles my cheek gently with his lips. "I'm glad it was you to teach me," he whispers as he circles my waist with one arm. His other arm bends beneath mine, and I suddenly feel the warmth of his palm cupping my breast gently. I exhale deeply at the sensation, and inhale deeper still as he begins to tenderly compress me in his hand.  
  
For no reason at all, a question forms in my mind. It was partially answered in the gardens this afternoon, but not directly since I didn't ask it directly. It is a practical question, no doubt asked by many new wives to their husbands. And the new husband usually would give his beloved a romantic answer that would make her sigh and run into his arms, ashamed that she would ever feel the need to ask that question. But I'm not ashamed to ask it. The answer to it is crucial.  
  
"Tasuki?" I whisper between my labored breaths, "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
"Why did you want to marry me?"  
  
His hand stops its soft movements, making me miss it instantly. The arm wound affectionately around my waist pulls me harder into the warmth of my husband. Is he having to think of his answer? I wouldn't blame him. Why did he want to marry me? I am not beautiful in the conventional way; in fact, I barely resemble the proper women of Konan. My eyes are too large and too transparent, too brazen and forward to be called the eyes of a lady. And my thick mahogany hair may be smooth and lustrous, but I hardly ever take the time to comb it out. My skin is too dark from being outside in the markets so much, making me look almost like a slave who's spent her days in the fields. I am not modest or docile. I curse. I love the taste of liquor. Oh, and have I mentioned that I was once a prostitute? I've slept with too many men to count, and it is possible that my body has been permanently damaged because of this. Does he not know that I may unknowingly give to him what diseases my body may harbor from my many years of being a whore? The story of Lady Tsuya keeps flashing through my mind even though I try to stop it. Her strange illness might have been caused by a demon of sickness. It could have been caused by absolutely nothing and simply bloomed inside her body one day. Or it could have been the consequences of her many years of prostitution. The same thing could happen to me.  
  
Suddenly, I feel his grip on me tighten, and suddenly my body is spun around in the chest-high water until I am facing him, pressed to his body. His exotic eyes shine like gold in the darkness, arresting me in their hypnotic gaze. Is he angry? Surprised? Uncertain? The intensity of his eyes almost makes me want to avert my own gaze, but I refuse.  
  
"Tansho," he says, his voice unexpectedly serene and tender. My rigidity melts at the sound. "Why are you asking me this? Don't you know?"  
  
"No," I state firmly, "I don't know. I'm asking you because I want to know why you would to marry a woman who was once a whore. Doesn't that bother you? If we were staying in the capital, wouldn't you be ashamed to be seen with-"  
  
He grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard, as if trying to wake me from a drug-induced sleep. I gasp as the stern golden sheen of his eyes intensified.  
  
"Tansho!" he cries, narrowing those mesmerizing eyes at me, "No! I'm not ashamed of what you once were! And I'm not bothered by it anymore either."  
  
"Anymore?" I inquire.  
  
His firm grasp on my shoulder softens a little, and his hands slip behind my back to pull me into his embrace. I balk, and stare at him incredulously, my hands pressed to his chest to keep my distance, demanding that he continue.  
  
"I admit that when we were first together, I was jealous. How could I not be? And I worried for you constantly. I was more bothered by the fact that I left you after every time we were together than by the fact that you were a prostitute. I constantly thought of some crazed client of yours killing you-or that bastard Shingen." He tries to pull me into him once again, and this time I go willingly, my hands slipping behind him. "But it doesn't matter anymore-because you're mine, and I can keep you safe now. Yeah, it's kinda hard to think of what you used to be, but it doesn't mean that I hold anything against you or that think less of you than I would of any other woman." I can feel his heart beating against my naked breasts, warming me and comforting me. I still have to know, though.  
  
"But aren't you afraid?" I whisper hoarsely.  
  
"Afraid of what, Tan?"  
  
"Of me. Of what my body might do to you. I've been with hundreds of men, Tasuki. Only the gods know what diseases may lurk inside me."  
  
I feel his muscles tighten, and I wonder if it is because he's thought of this before but never imagined I would mention it. It is either this, or the fact that the thought has never once passed through his mind. His hands suddenly come alive on my naked skin, and run up and down the length of my back as if trying to soothe me. I hear him sigh in my ear, and I am puzzled by his strange actions.  
  
"No, I'm not afraid of you, Tansho," he says quietly, "And I knew a long time ago what you just told me. I'm prepared for whatever may happen to us; I always have been. I love you, and I decided long before I asked you to marry me that I would stay with you and blame you for nothing no matter what happened to me or to you."  
  
I close my eyes sadly. He sounds so sure of himself, just as he always is. My darling husband. My beloved. I can only pray to the gods to protect us from my past. But is it possible that our future may be affected by this as well? I lost our first child-but was it because of my body, or simply Fate? Will I ever be able to have a child? Or will they all be flushed from me the moment they begin living? My heart aches to tell him all of this, but my logic tells me that it would only harm him at a moment in time when he cannot afford to be harmed.  
  
"You still haven't answered my question, Tasuki," I whisper into the bare skin of his shoulder. "Why did you marry me?"  
  
"I married you because I love you, Tan," he answers without hesitation, "You're a marvelous woman to have survived all that you have, and still have so much life and love inside you. I'm in awe of you sometimes."  
  
"I'm in awe of you every minute of the day," I reply quietly. "You have to be in awe of a man who dared to love a whore."  
  
I feel him laugh a little, and I smile in return. Dear gods, I think to myself, do not take him away from me ever again. Let me keep him for longer than a few days. I want years. Decades.  
  
I pull my husband closer to me as if that would keep him here, and I imaging the years that are to come-years of freedom and happiness. Years of love. And I see them all as clearly as the stars that illuminate the late summer sky, and I allow myself to be lost in them for a few moments as the cool waves of the ocean swirl around our bodies.  
  
A/N: Once again, I am terribly sorry for the wait. I've just finished registering for my Spring semester classes (I didn't hardly get any of the professors and classes I wanted! ( But oh well!)  
  
Ok, well, I have to say that this is one of my favorite chapters. ^_^ I almost didn't write the scenes where Tansho teaches Tasuki how to swim, but then I remembered how she had promised to do so in one of the earlier chapters, and I thought the best setting for it would be their wedding night. ^_^ So romantic, huh?  
  
Thanks so so so much for all the compliments on the wedding chapter. I loved writing that chap, and I think I loved writing the author's notes even more. ^_^ I'm glad you guys liked those, by the way. I was worried they were a little long-winded, but I guess that was necessary considering how much I wanted to tell you.  
  
Well, I gotta go and study for a Politics & Society test. ( Believe it or not, that's actually one of my fav classes. ^_^  
  
Love you guys!!! See ya later!!! 


	52. Enchantment

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry that's it's been awhile, but life's been a bitch lately. Anyways, I hope you guys love this chapter, 'cause I adored writing it.  
  
Warning: The following chapter has sexual content in it, so please don't have a freak-out since it's been so long since I posted one of my wonderful lemon chapter. It has been awhile, huh? Well, please enjoy and please review, too! ^_^  
  
Chapter 52  
Enchantment  
  
We dress quickly, the chill in the night air soon becoming too much to bear even in the luke-warm waters of the ocean. I don't bother to arrange my wet hair or reposition the numerous clasps and pins that are nestled safely inside my slippers. I go barefoot, as does Tasuki, his black boots tucked under one arm while his other wraps itself around my shoulders. I slip my arm around his waist and press my silk slippers close to my chest, afraid of losing one of the golden hair ornaments tucked inside.  
  
We walk swiftly through the courtyards of the palace, not speaking for fear of alarming a guard or maid wondering what in hell we're doing wandering barefoot through the palace at night. The seraglio gates are open when we reach them, and I wonder for a moment if they are ever closed or locked as they are expected to be. The courtyard garden is deathly quiet, and only a few lamps flicker through the windows of the two buildings that surround it, telling us that not many of the courtesans are night owls. The dining room where our small wedding banquet was held is empty and its doors are closed, and for a moment I feel guilty that Tasuki and I didn't make at least a short appearance. But I'm sure our guests didn't mind our slipping away-they no doubt shared a few winks and knowing glances with each other when they saw we weren't present.  
  
We reach my chambers, and Tasuki opens the door, holding it back to allow me to enter first. I give an affectionate glance over my shoulder as I make my way through the alcove and into my bedroom. A lamp sits forlornly upon my vanity table, already lit and making my room glow in its golden light. The lavender coverlet and the linens have been folded back for me, and I give them a bewildered look before turning around and giving the same look to Tasuki, who's placing his boots next to my monstrous wardrobe. He begins unfastening the straps that holds his enchanted fan to his back and slips it off, placing it reverently on a small table near my bed. He notices the turned-back linens and returns my puzzled look with a shrug and a grin.  
  
"One of the maids did it probably," he explains, "Don't ask me why they do. I think I can manage my own damn sheets--"  
  
My eyebrows arch in interest. I expected a maid or servant, but I certainly never expected them to ready my bed for me. How odd. It will take some time, no doubt, to get used to being treated so nicely, but I think I may enjoy it.  
  
"I suppose people living in the palace are accustomed to it-they probably think nothing about it anymore," I comment, turning to my vanity table to empty the hair claps and pins from my silk slippers. I then place my shoes next to Tasuki's and pull one of my simple cotton night robes from inside my cedar chest. I then begin the long process of removing my mother's beloved gown from my body, the sash and girdle being unwound from my waist first, followed by the black over robe and the crimson under robe. I feel my husband's eyes watching me as I undress and reverently fold each piece of my treasured ensemble before slipping the cool cotton sleeping robe over my shoulders and tying it with a simple sash. And I turn just in time to see his eyes shining in fascination. Somewhat flattered by the enthrallment of his gaze, I quickly avert my eyes and pick up my simple wooden comb from the vanity even though several exquisite ones are laid out there for me. I'm hesitant to touch them, seeing as it's possible that they belonged to one of the dozens of courtesans who left the harem not long ago. I run my comb through my tangled mass of hair, wincing at the snags caused by the waves. I sit heavily on my bed, hoping to ease the pain somehow by feeling the soft linens beneath me.  
  
As I comb out my hair, I watch Tasuki, who seems oblivious to me as he slowly undresses. He unbuckles his belt and tosses it where his boots lay, and then begins work on his coat and undershirt, stripping them off silently and without even a glance at me. I follow his actions hungrily and with a tint of amusement in my eyes. He walks over to the mirror at my vanity table and dares a glance. He ruffles his damp, unruly hair and chuckles a bit.  
  
"I may need that comb, Tan baby," he remarks, turning to me with a lop-sided grin. "I look pretty rough." I smile at him and the charming messiness of his blazing orange tresses, their wildness resembling the flickering of a fire now more than ever. He tries to smooth the tangles and stiffness caused by the salt and intensity of the sea, but only manages to ruffle his extraordinary hair even more.  
  
"Come here to me," I reply gently, motioning with my wooden comb for him to sit next to me on the bed, "It just needs combing." He throws me a lop-sided grin and obeys my request, his naked chest glowing golden in the dim light of our solitary lamp as he walks to my bed and eases down next to me. A long sigh flows from between his lips.  
  
"Damn, that feels good," he comments. I lift my legs onto my bed and scoot nearer to his body until my crossed shins press against his hip. His fingers reach out to grasp one of my ankles, his fingertips exploring the delicate bones through my cold skin, warming them. His hand begins to travel along my calf, to my knee, where it hesitates. His eyes turn to mine, inquiring me. "I thought you were gonna comb my hair for me. What're you waiting for?"  
  
Only when he speaks do I realize that his exploring fingers have hypnotized me with their rhythmic, warm touches. An apologetic smile shapes my lips and I look up at him as if embarrassed for letting him put me under his spell, but he only leans over and lowers his face to mine until the tips of our noses are barely touching. The warmth of his breath flows onto my lips, and for a moment I think I taste the salt of the ocean. He places a tender, slow kiss at the corner of my mouth, lingering there for a moment as if waiting for something. But I am too entranced to even close my eyes in enjoyment of his soft lips on my skin. I stare into the golden air of my room, the glow of the lamp having bathed everything in tawny.  
  
He pulls away and I come back from the solitary place I was trapped in, stunned by his tender mouth and rapt by the way his fingertips moved over my ankle. He has always done this to me-taken me over and made me his. He has always fascinated and bewitched me, made me believe that he is the center of the universe. And I wonder if I do the same to him when I fling those alluring glances over my shoulder when he's least expecting it, or when my mouth flickers into a smile.  
  
I rest my cheek lovingly against his bare shoulder before lifting my comb and pulling it gently through his long bangs. As I comb, I run my fingers through his hair to smooth it down. Soon, I have managed to somewhat tame his wild hair, and put him into his own trance. His eyes drooped closed long ago, lulled by the gentle tugging of the wooden comb combined with my tender motions. I lean in and kiss his cheek, telling him I'm finished. His eyes blink open sleepily and he lifts his eyebrows.  
  
"Done already?" he asks, lifting his fingers to run them through his tresses.  
  
I nod happily. He shifts sideways towards me to level his sight with the mirror above my vanity, giving a hum of approval. "Hell of a job, Tan baby," he comments enthusiastically. "You gotta do my hair more often!"  
  
Smiling, I lean towards him and again rest my cheek against the slope of his naked shoulder, my arms sliding around his neck and holding him to me. I feel his palm on my back, caressing me gently through the soft cotton of my night robe. He presses a kiss on top of my head, and another in the place where my ear meets my cheek, slowly moving towards my mouth. He lifts my face with the tips of his fingers beneath my chin, and his lips slide over the bridge of my nose. My eyes focus on the rhythmic swaying and glittering of one of his blue and red earrings, transfixed. What an enchanter my husband is! What a devious magician! I pull away gently and give him a sly smile before pressing my starving lips to his. Surprised, but obviously delighted, he pulls me closer and closer to him until my crossed legs have no choice but to straighten and I am lying flying flat on my back in the hollow of his lap. He leans over me, wrapping his arms around me, as he deepens our kiss by coaxing my lips apart with a sensuous flick of his tongue. My palm loops behind his head, pulling him deeper into me, and I sigh inwardly as he tenderly kisses me with a captivating intensity that makes the hidden place between my thighs come alive.  
  
His hands stray to my face, where he traces the arch of my eyebrow as he kisses the curve of my bottom lip and the tiny valley between my nose and mouth. How on earth he can love me so tenderly and slowly after ravishing me with his hungry eyes all day? The pressure of his hands is neither demanding nor lustful-and the touch of his lips is both calm and passionate.  
  
Suddenly overcome by the desire to have him, I pull away from his gentle kisses before placing my hands on his shoulders and pushing him backwards onto the bed. I climb slowly on top of him, determined to put him under a spell just as he has done to me, and straddle his hips with my bare legs. I have surprised him yet again, and his eyes follow me with both interest and ardor, roaming over the curves that are very obvious through the thin cotton that clings to my frame. Unable to resist, his hands slide across my soft thighs and over my hips, resting there as he inquires me with his eyes. But I don't give him any answers.  
  
I bend over him, letting my damp hair spill over the slopes of my shoulders and onto his bare chest. My lips hover teasingly over his, and when he lifts himself up to try to kiss me, I push him back, making him wait. His eyes look at me with a mixture of frustration and irritation, causing my heart to clench in guilt. I really should not tease him so mercilessly. So, to appease him, I lean over him yet again and trail my lips along the curves of his, letting him have a small taste of me. But before he can seal his mouth over mine, I avert my lips to his throat, instantly halting his actions. He writhes under me as my mouth travels slowly along the tendons under his skin, following them down to his collarbone. My hands stray to his chest and press down softly upon the firm muscles, feeling their strength when they flex beneath my touch. And when my fingertips glide across his nipples, a sound that seems to be the erotic fusion of a sigh and a moan fills the air. Tasuki's hands slide back down to my thighs and clench them powerfully, though not painfully. I am reawakening him to my touch, and am more than happy to see I am succeeding. My fingertips skim along his sides, feeling the contours of his ribs and causing a stifled laugh to spurt from between his lips. I smile softly; I forgot he was ticklish.  
  
I lean closer to him, pressing my breasts to his naked chest, and allow my hands to drift silently down to his hips, where they linger as I shift my body sideways. And as I keep his eyes preoccupied with the swell of my bosom and his hands preoccupied with the curvatures of my thighs, my own hands are sliding softly and slowly between his legs, where the swell of his longing is very evident to my gentle palm. Suddenly, he senses my presence where me most desires it and a surprised gasp of breath slides through his lips. His hand reaches out and gently wraps around my wrist, pulling my hand from between his thighs. Disappointed, my eyes question him, but the only answer I am given is a soft smile. He is telling me to be patient. Him. The man who has been ogling and touching me and stealing sweltering kisses from me at every possible moment - is telling me to be patient.  
  
I sigh and rest my head on his chest, allowing his arm to curve around the slope of my back. I expect him to simply want to lie like this for a while, doing absolutely nothing, but I expect wrong. Suddenly, his arms are curling themselves around me like vines, pulling me closer into his embrace. And in one, swift, gentle motion, he has rolled on top of me. Surprised, I simply lie still for a moment, staring up at him, unsure of how to handle this. But when I see the mischievous glint in his shining eyes, I realize that the darling bastard was teasing me when he abruptly pulled my hand away a few moments ago.  
  
He leans over me, letting his lips hover over mine as I did to him. "Payback," he whispers, masquerading his voice in a devious tone. I now know I shouldn't have teased him so much today. I should have known that his fiery nature would not allow it.  
  
His mouth seizes mine fiercely, once again catching me off-guard as he so loves to do. His lips glide over mine smoothly, soon enticing them to part for him. The subtle taste of sake fills my mouth as his tongue grazes mine teasingly, making the place between my legs moisten. His hand wanders down my side and over my hip, following the path my own hand made on him, and suddenly I feel the callous texture of the base of his fingers sliding slowly up my inner thigh. A moan passes between my lips and is swallowed in Tasuki's unyielding, fervent kisses as his hand makes contact with my womanhood, cupping me tenderly. But he is gone before I am able to begin to enjoy the gentle presence, and I realize that he is teasing me again.  
  
But his hands don't stop; they glide upwards again and settle on the soft mound of my breast. I smile against his mouth at the gentle touch. So different from the vicious, greedy clenching and grasping of the men who were once my clients only days earlier. I untie the sash from around my waist, allowing my nightgown to be pulled open by my husband's ready hands. He slips the material down my shoulders and over my arms until my own chest is as bare as his, my naked breasts glowing golden in the light of our solitary lamp. His eyes drift down to the soft curves of my breasts, gazing at them in an almost reverent way. I have noticed that ever since they bloomed upon my chest when I was entering my fifteenth year, they have been able to literally enchant men. And my beloved Tasuki is no different. A smile spreads across his face as his fingertips graze the sides of my golden breasts before he leans down and kisses the valley between them. A sound resembling a soft hum combined with a moan slips from my mouth when his fingers sweep slowly across the naked plane of my belly. His lips travel slowly up the length of my sternum before sliding across the tops of my breasts, inching further and further down until they brush across my nipples. I inhale sharply at the sudden feeling of his mouth kissing me there, a place where only he has been gentle with me. Even my dear Akahito had a bad habit of dealing with my sensitive nipples too roughly; but not my husband. My hands slide up his arms until they are clenching his shoulders, keeping my body rooted to the bed as I writhe beneath him in pleasure.  
  
Then, suddenly, his lips are covering mine again. For a moment I miss the gentle, erotic sensations of his lips and tongue on my breasts, but then I fall in love with his wild, ardent kisses and forget where his mouth was before it was sealed to mine. I can feel the burning heat of his skin, and I know that he will not be able to hold himself back much longer. The powerful desire in him is evident in his zealous kisses and his roaming, wanting hands. And as I contemplate this, I suddenly realize how intense the warmth between my thighs is, and how my abdomen seems to tremble under my husband's fingers. I am close to the edge as well. How beautifully convenient.  
  
I break away from his passionate mouth slowly, and gaze at him with silent eyes for a moment. Then, as quietly and as softly as a moth flittering through the air, I scoot my half-naked body out from beneath his, and climb beneath the smooth, cool linens of my new bed. I unwind my nightgown from the lower half of my body and let it drop to the floor, then hold out my hand to Tasuki, telling him to come to me. Without speaking, he gets up from where we had lain at the foot of the bed and rids himself of his tan trousers before taking my out-stretched hand and crawling beneath the sheets with me, molding our naked bodies together. We lie like this for a long while, simply feeling the contours and shapes of each other's bodies after so long of being apart. I have forgotten the oddly erotic sensation of his bare knees against mine and the way our legs seem to instantly want to tangle themselves together.  
  
But then I hear his breath in my ear, and I know that he cannot wait any longer. I press my lips to his cheek as he gently and carefully covers my body with his, instantly sending waves of warmth over my chilled skin. His weight settles on his bent arms, and his face hovers close to mine so that our eyes can see directly into each other's. His knees softly nudge against the sensitive insides of mine, and I am quick to part them so that his lower body can settle in the valley between them. I rest my calves against his sides, and curl my arms around his shoulders, running my fingers through the cool smoothness of his fire colored hair that almost seems to be alive in the dim light of the lamp at our bedside. He places tender kisses on my cheeks, sweeping over my mouth ever so slightly before pressing his lips to mine. I can feel the firmness of his manhood between my thighs, wanting and waiting for me, and a restless sigh seeps from between my lips, telling him how hungry I am for him. My calves press against his hips, urging him. His mouth swallows mine a final time before he comes into me softly and slowly, our bodies coming together wholly after so long of being separated. My hands clutch his shoulders as he waits for my body to relax to his, and then, he begins to move slowly within me, making my fingers clench him even tighter.  
  
With my eyelids pressed closed to block out anything that may take my attention away from the wonderful feeling between my legs, I move my body with his, rocking my hips into his with every movement he makes. One of his hands slides down my side and curls around my hip, helping us move together more perfectly. I clutch his shoulders with one hand, and his lower back with the other, feeling as his muscles strain and relax again and again beneath my fingers. The sound of his voice fills my ears, and I listen in ecstasy as he groans and sighs, relishing in the thought that I am what is making him do this. He presses his cheek to mine, and my fingers press to his face momentarily to lift it so I can gaze into his eyes. And when he sees the smoky haze of my irises, his body quickens its movements suddenly, and he clutches me to him as he makes love to me fervently. And then I can sense the familiar sensation building between my legs, intensifying more and more as we rock against each other quicker and quicker, going higher and higher. His hands grip me tighter and suddenly, and I hear a gasp of release in my ear as his body empties into me; and before his euphoric hold on me can weaken, my own body is suddenly releasing itself, beginning to tremble as the blissful sensation in my womanhood bursts and spreads across my body like a river of warm water. We continue to clutch each other as we ride out the tumultuous sensations of our orgasms, our skin slick with our perspiration, our breath quick and shallow, our eyes closed lazily.  
  
Not being with your beloved for a long amount of time only makes your eventual union that much more breathtaking. And how lucky and blessed I am to have Tasuki as my beloved. Never before have I known a man like him. Never again will I know a man like him. That is why I dared to speak to him, dared to touch him, dared to fall in love with him, dared to make love with him, and dared to marry him. That is why I am daring Fate at this very moment by being so perfectly happy. What will Fate do to me now that our marriage has been consummated and our love for each other has bonded together for eternity? I already know that he will be taken from me tomorrow; but what is to happen after that? Will my husband and I walk out of the gates of this palace once peace has been restored to Konan? Or will I live on in this palace as a widow? So many questions for Fate -- someone who cannot give me any answers.  
  
So instead of pondering the horrendous questions in my already burdened mind, I think only of the man resting in my arms. I think only of the moisture of his skin and the welcome pressure of his body laid out on top of mine. I think only of the way he curls me tightly to his chest after gently disconnecting our bodies. And I think only of the way he holds me, his wife, so carefully and so close to him.  
  
I curl myself happily into him, breathing in the salty aroma of the ocean that is still present on his naked skin, feeling it warm under my touch. I close my eyes and see him as he was when he first caught my eye, beneath me as I stand on the upper level of the Black Dove. His hair like fire. His skin like caramel. His eyes like pond water. Only in this moment as I hold him in our wedding bed is he more beautiful than he was then, when I first laid my eyes upon him. Only in this moment do I truly consider myself free from all the evils and all the hatred of the world I once knew. I've been free in my heart since that night Shingen raised his hand to me and I thrust the Seal of Suzaku in his hideous face. I've been free in my body since this morning, when Tasuki delivered His Highness's decree of liberation to my owner and fought for me with his own hands. But now I am free in my soul as well, having been released from the walls of my former world by the tender hands of my husband and his devotion and love for me.  
  
I will always adore him for what he has done for me-not only given me my freedom, but also loved me unconditionally and wholeheartedly. I was once a whore who sold my body for my food and my bed, but now I am the wife of a celestial warrior, a man chosen by his god to be magnificent and powerful. But it is not this magnificence and power that enchants me and makes me crave my darling Tasuki-it is the nonchalant and daring nature of him. He dared to love me, a prostitute, and not care that I am neither pure nor proper. I love him because he loves me, and because he wants me and needs me. And if I lose him in the fires and the smoke of war, I will never forget this. I will always remember the golden emerald shade of his eyes, and the callousness at the base of his fingers, and the odd little fangs that peek out from beneath his lips. But it is the intensity of his unabashed love and desire for me that my mind will forever remember. A love born out of indignation, a love grown upon the sound of laughter and the touch of lustful hands, a love rooted deep in admiration and devotion, and a love that will never be destroyed. It is the love I thought could only be found in folk tales, and perhaps the story of Tasuki and Tansho will live on in the words of the people of Konan. Only Fate knows.  
  
My husband and I whisper softly to each other for a few more minutes, but our eyes cannot stay open, and we are soon slipping away into sleep, nestled safely in each other's arms. I dream of this place years from now, and I hear the words of our story being sung by women in the fields, being told by mothers to their sleepy children, being whispered across the warm winds of the earth while people come and go and live and die. And I smile in my sleep, knowing that my beloved and I will never be forgotten.  
  
A/N: I absolutely adored writing this chapter. But let me tell you something - it took for damn ever. I wrote and re-wrote and re-wrote over and over again, trying to sum up in one chapter everything about Tansho and Tasuki that I love, and everything that I tried to give to them and to this story. But I think that the end result is just peachy, huh? ^_^  
  
Alrighty then, my darlings - once again, I'm terribly sorry for the late update. My life has become very tumultuous in these last few weeks and although I've been writing like crazy to help me cope with my freaked- up life, I have not found the time to edit and upload my chapters. Thanks for understanding, though! ^_^  
  
I haven't replied to you reviewers later, so I thought I'd take the time to do that now!  
  
Spork Warrior Kore: First off, kick-ass pen name! ^_^ Second off, thanks so much!  
  
Zerianyu: Yep, life definitely does happen. I can testify to that. And no, you didn't offend me at all, hon! I'm flattered when people are honest with me. So thanks!!  
  
Sasa1: I adored your reviews!! ^_^ The little Tasuki/Soara dialogues were absolutely hilarious and cute as hell!! And thanks so much for the compliments.  
  
DeeDee: Hey, I'm glad you finally reviewed! I'm glad you're liking my story, and it's always great to know you've got another fan! ^_^  
  
Thanks again, guys!!! ^_^ I love all of you so so so much!! 


	53. The Farewell

Chapter 53  
The Farewell  
  
I awake quickly, as if pushed from sleep by disembodied hands lurking somewhere in my mind. My eyelids part slowly to see the white chiffon canopy of my bed resting above me like a cloud. Suddenly, foreign noises echo through my room, and in a startled frenzy I bolt upright in my bed, clutching the linens close to my naked breasts. The sound of feet sliding over polished tiles combined with the calm splash of flowing water fills the air of my chambers, and I realize that they are coming from the inside of my bathing room.  
  
My eyes drop to my bed, which is empty except for me. Tasuki. He's not here. Automatically assuming that my husband is the one making the noise, I slide from my bed and creep to the doors of the bathing room, still totally naked. I'll give him an early-morning treat before he must leave for the battlefield. Just because he will soon be riding off into the midst of hell does not mean that we should be miserable and sullen on our wedding morning.  
  
I reach the threshold of the bathing room and peek timidly around the corner, expecting to see Tasuki either reclining in the jade-tiled bath or preparing to climb in. But I don't see him at all. Standing beside the beautiful bath is a strange young woman, her small arms straining to keep a ceramic jug from toppling into the bath while steaming water pours from its mouth. The jade-covered interior of the bath is already over half-full with rippling, warm water.  
  
A high-pitched gasp echoes through the humid air of the bathing room, and I shift my eyes from the huge jug back to the girl, and realize that she has seen me-nearly all of me. Her dark brown eyes widen at the sight of my bare breasts, and she turns around quickly, a string of muffled apologizes sprouting from her mouth. Embarrassed and confused beyond comprehension, I hastily retreat to my bedside, scoop up my discarded night robe and throw it on. Only when the sash is securely tied around my waist do I dare to approach the entrance to my bathing room again.  
  
The poor girl's hands are trembling as if she just committed an inexcusable crime. The heavy jug, now empty of water, shakes wildly right along with her nervous hands. I clear my throat to let her know I've returned and she turns to me with a look of utter mortification on her pretty face. I almost want to laugh and hug her trembling little body to mine to try to ease her discomfort, but I myself am still a little too stunned to do much of anything. The poor girl appears to be only thirteen or fourteen years old-still a child. I watch as her lips quiver slightly, as if she wants to speak, and when her melodious little words do come out, they are as nervous as the rest of her.  
  
"P-please do for-forgive me, my l-lady," she stutters, her vivid brown eyes glistening as if on the verge of tears, "I did-I d-didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"Oh," I reply, smiling softly to try to calm her, "You didn't wake me. I thought you were someone else-that's why I---well, you know." Only when I try to explain my actions do I realize that I'm just as nervous as she. "My husband," I inquire gently, "Do you, by chance, know where he is?"  
  
At hearing this, her quivering little body seems to calm, and she smiles sweetly at me, bowing her head in submission. "Yes, Lady Tansho. I do know where he is. He was called very early this morning to a final meeting with His Highness, Master Chichiri, and His Highness' personal advisors and officers."  
  
"Oh," I sigh. For a slight moment my heart was beginning to race madly at the thought that Tasuki left to ride away into battle without even bidding me farewell. I reprimand myself mentally at thinking such a thing. He would never do that to me. Still, I cannot help but inquire further. "Do you know if he will be returning to my quarters before he and the others leave?" I ask.  
  
The young girl carefully places the empty jug onto the snow-white tiles of my bathing room floor before answering. "He left just as I was knocking on your door to introduce myself. He asked me to tell you that he most likely won't be able to return here, but to ask you to join him in the palace's main courtyard an hour from now. That is when he and the others are planning to leave for the battlefields on the eastern border."  
  
"An hour," I repeat, gazing down at the ground. I am not angry with him for slipping away from me so secretly. I will not judge him-I have no right. He is a warrior chosen by a god, and although my heart knows his devotion to me is as strong as his destiny, I also must submit to the realization that his duties come before me. But as his wife, I do have the right to tell him goodbye; and I am anxious to be there when he departs.  
  
"Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, Lady Tansho," she young woman replies, her small feet taking dainty, quick steps toward me. Thankfully, her voice and demeanor has seemed to relax again. She takes my hand in hers and bows deeply before me, her loose golden hair tumbling over her shoulders. "My name is Naho, and I will be serving you during your stay here in the palace. My room is right next to yours, and if you should need me just pull on this cord." She scurries over to the far wall of the bathing room and pulls on a small, silk cord that seems to magically disappear into the ceiling. "All of the courtesans' rooms have these in case they should need their handmaid during the night or during an emergency." She smiles and pulls the cord again.  
  
"Oh, all right then," I reply, not really knowing exactly what to say. "Thank you."  
  
"No thanks required, my lady," Naho answers cheerfully, returning to my side and picking up the large ceramic jug. "I only hope that I can make your stay here that much more comfortable." She hugs the jar to her small breasts and raises her eyebrows slightly. "I thought you would enjoy a bath, Lady Tansho. And if you would like, I could order your breakfast from the kitchen and serve you after you've bathed."  
  
I am not yet accustomed to so much undivided attention shown to me. I'm used to drawing my own bath and fetching (and usually cooking) my own meals -- not having it all done for me. But I am a guest here, so I suppose it would be best to allow Naho to serve me just as she would serve the other courtesans or guests.  
  
"That would be nice," I reply with a smile, "Thank you, Naho."  
  
She bows again and takes her leave, the large ceramic jar in tow, to allow me time to bathe in private. As I undress, my eyes skim over the numerous cosmetic products arranged on a short table next to the bath. There are dozens of different soaps with different scents stacked on top of each other, not to mention all the bottles of bath oils and the box of sea sponges waiting to be chosen from. Not being a connoisseur of such things, I simply pick a block of soap that smells a basket of peaches and a dark orange sponge that seems slightly softer than the others. The sensation of warm, clean water on my legs momentarily pushes all thoughts from my tumultuous mind, giving me precious time to simply enjoy the feeling of sitting naked in my new, gorgeous bath and soaking in the scent of peaches.  
  
My hair is stiff with dried salt water and carries a slightly unbecoming odor. Determined to smell of freshly sliced peaches rather than freshly sliced fish when I bid farewell to Tasuki, I scoot my body forward on the slick, jade tiles and dunk my head beneath the water. I then scrub furiously at my dark brown hair with a handful of peach-scented lather.  
  
Used to being forced to bath before the water turns cold, I am finished scrubbing and rinsing my hair and skin in only a few minutes. Knowing that I have no time to simply sit and soak lazily, I hurry out of the water. And by the time Naho returns to my chambers with a tray laden with tea, steamed rice, sweet dumplings, and roast chicken, I am sitting quietly by the open window next to my bed, allowing the warm breeze to dry my wet hair. I would light the small hearth in my alcove, but the humidity of late summer is too much to bear along with the added heat of a burning hearth.  
  
"Your breakfast, my lady," Naho replies happily, placing the tray of food on a small, round table at the foot of my bed.  
  
I thank her, and as I seat myself in the table's lone chair, Naho asks me is I would like her to select a gown for me to wear when I go to bid farewell to my husband. With my mouth already full of a combination of rice and honey-covered dumplings, I can only nod my consent and contort my strained lips into a lop-sided smile. Naho giggles, pads over to my wardrobe, and opens it carefully as if the precious garments inside could come spilling out. As I eat, I try my best not to spill the delicious tea or scatter rice all over the table top. I had no idea I was so hungry! Perhaps I should have opted to eat at my wedding banquet last night instead of swimming in the ocean with Tasuki.  
A delighted gasp from Naho brings me out of my food-induced trance, and I look up from my bowl of rice to see her admiring the maple-leaf embroidered outer robe of my mother's gown. There is puzzlement mixed with the admiration on her young face.  
  
"Is this yours, Lady Tansho?" she asks, turning to me, "I don't remember placing it in your wardrobe yesterday with the other new gowns Lady Junko had me bring to your chambers."  
  
"Yes," I answer after swallowing a mouthful of roasted chicken. "My mother made that for me a long time ago-as well as an under robe, girdle, and sash to go with it."  
  
"She must have been a professional seamstress-yes?"  
  
"Yes," I reply, startled, "How did you know?"  
  
"Only a seamstress who has spent her life holding needles and thread could produce such lovely craftsmanship," Naho answers happily, giving me a smile. "Would you like to wear it today?"  
  
"No," I answer hastily, "I wore it yesterday, and I don't want it to get worn out too quickly."  
  
"Ah, yes, that's quite understandable, my lady," my maidservant replies as she turns to replace the golden and scarlet outer robe back in the wardrobe. "How about this?" She pulls out a gorgeous azure blue outer robe, its short, shoulder-length sleeves trimmed in white, and a pale yellow under robe to go with it. "The blue would look wonderful with your dark hair," she remarks.  
  
"Yes," I say, smiling as I finish my breakfast, "That's perfect."  
  
After combing my hair and styling it modestly in a simple chignon and braid, Naho helps me don the yellow under robe and azure over robe, followed by a plain white girdle to accentuate the white trim of the blue outer robe. We finish off my lovely outfit with a soft yellow sash to match the shade of the under robe and a pair of my comfortable cotton slippers since the walk to the palace's main courtyard is a rather long one. I exchange my onyx earrings for the blue and red beaded ones that Tasuki gave to me right before he left of the mission to Hokkan, and I am ready to say my goodbyes to my husband.  
  
I tell Naho politely that I would rather be alone as I walk to the main entrance of the palace, and she is understanding of my wishes. She offers to tidy my room up for me while I'm gone, and I give her a thankful smile before I step outside my door and begin the long walk to where I will say farewell to my beloved.  
  
But when I reach he gates of the seraglio, I am surprised to see Tasuki standing there patiently, his arms crossed over his chest, his back resting against the wall, as if he is there waiting for me. And I am even more surprised to see that his midnight-black overcoat and tan trousers have been replaced with a very becoming dark green tunic, gray trousers, and green boots. So surprised am I by his sudden appearance coupled with his new ensemble that I momentarily forget I know how to speak, and I stand in front of him with an expressionless face.  
  
He lets out a soft laugh as he pushes his body off the wall. "Hey there, Tan baby," he replies with a smirk on his face, "Whatcha staring at?"  
  
The sound of his voice brings mine back to life, and I am able to summon a soft giggle from my throat. "Nothing," I say, walking the remaining distance that separates us, "Just wondering what you're doing here. I thought you were in a meeting with His Highness. Naho, my maid, said that you wanted me to meet you in the palace's main courtyard."  
  
"Yeah, I didn't know when we'd be done. I didn't want to take a chance at being forced to leave without being able to come back here and tell you bye." He wraps an arm around my shoulders when I reach his side, and we begin walking slowly in the direction I thought I would be walking alone a few minutes ago.  
  
"I like these clothes," I comment, smiling up at him.  
  
"Really? Thanks, Tan. I just worried about getting my black coat all scuffed up," he remarks, pulling at the hem of his green tunic and rotating the golden arm-bands that guard his forearms. His attention turns to me, and his eyes light up for a moment. "And look at you, Miss Pretty Courtesan!" he replies playfully, tugging at the yellow chiffon sleeve of my under robe. "You look damn good, Tan!"  
  
I glare at him, momentarily resenting his calling me a "pretty courtesan", but then I see the teasing glint in his beautiful golden-green eyes and I can't help but laugh. I do give him a soft slap on the shoulder as a warning not to call me a courtesan again. But he only laughs and pulls me closer to his side, and I slip my arm around his waist.  
  
We continue walking in the direction of the main courtyard, passing numerous servants and guests who bow to us when they recognize Tasuki and mistake me for a courtesan since I am dressed so much like one. And as we walk, we are strangely silent, simply holding onto each other gently as we stroll across the gardens, courtyards, and verandas of the palace. But after a few moments, my mind is too overwhelmed by the silence, and I am desperate to hear my husband's voice for fear it may be the last time I am truly able to speak to him with all my soul.  
  
"Tasuki," I say quietly, keeping my eyes ahead of me.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Are you afraid?"  
By the way that the muscles in his back clench suddenly beneath my hand, I can tell that my question catches him off guard, though I certain didn't mean to. I am only curious as to what is happening inside of his mind. I wonder if he is anxious about going to battle, about being forced to fight and possibly kill his enemies for the sake of his county. I only want to know. I only want him to know that I understand.  
  
"Yeah," he answers after a few moments of silence, "Yeah, I am in a way." His voice is oddly serene and passive, not agitated or anxious in any way. "I sure as hell ain't no coward, but I think that every man has gotta be a little scared when he goes off to war. I don't see how you can't be."  
  
I gaze up at him and nod softly to tell him that I agree.  
  
"I'm not really afraid of getting hurt or even dying," he continues, "I'm just scared for the other soldiers, for Konan, for Miaka, for His Highness, for you-" He looks down at me, and I think for a moment that I see the shadow of his soul reflecting in his eyes. "I'm scared we'll lose. I'm scared that Suzaku will never be freed and that Miaka will never be able to summon him. I'm scared that you and me will never get to go home to Mount Reikaku."  
  
I feel my heart shuddering in my chest, soaking in my beloved husband's sorrow. He's suffering. I can feel it. And he's trying to keep all of his worries and doubts inside, just as he is used to doing-just as I'm used to doing. But not any more. I stop our slow walking and slip my other arm around his waist, hugging him close to me. His arms curl around my shoulders, taking me into his familiar embrace that I am so in love with.  
  
"It is all right to be afraid, Tasuki," I whisper into his tunic, "Fear is one of the strongest of human emotions, and it cannot be ignored or denied. But it can be overcome with faith and courage and love." I raise my head and rest my chin on his chest so that I can look directly up into his handsome face. "Fight for the people you love, for your empire, and for yourself," I tell him, my voice both stern and soft. "Fear cannot dominate a man who does those things."  
  
He looks at me with an expression of awe, an expression that has graced his face quite a few times now. What is so awe-inspiring about me? I am only a woman who was once a whore. I am only a woman who got lucky, who made the gods remember her somehow. What is so magnificent about me? But I suppose Tasuki knows since he is looking at me the way he is. He draws me closer into his embrace and holds me fiercely, knowing that this could very well be one of our last conversations.  
  
We go on walking, but no longer in silence. We talk on and on about whatever comes into our minds. We talk about Koi, Okichi, and Misa, wondering what will become of them when Tasuki and I leave for the mountain. We talk about the palace, how humongous and magnificent it is- and when we're sure no one's around us, we remark with sly smiles on how much space is wasted and how much money is spent in a single week keeping the emperor and empress happy. And we talk about something that I have longed to talk about since I found out Tasuki was a Mount Reikaku bandit - his fellow bandits that he left behind in order to fulfill his duty as a warrior of Suzaku. He tells me about his good friend, a man named Koji, who by the way Tasuki speaks about his, is even worse than my husband. And he tells me about many of the other men, naming them and describing them, telling me stories about their adventures together. I'm enthralled by it all. Any other woman in her right mind would be horrified and repulsed at the idea of living with these men, but I am so excited that I can hardly contain myself! Of course it is no big change for me. I am quite accustomed to being around noisy, foul-mouthed men with a love for alcohol and fighting. I expect I'll fit right in.  
  
Our conversations continue on, but soon we are silenced by the sight of the large gates that lead from the inside of the palace to the main courtyard that leads directly into the city. We are here, at the place where we must part. I follow him silently through the gates as they are opened for us by a pair of palace guards, and we walk together to the center of the giant courtyard where his fellow warriors, he emperor and empress, the royal advisors, and several horses await us. The priestess is already perched upon a chestnut mare, the warrior known as Tamahome seated in the saddle in front of her. He no doubt wishes to keep her as close as possible, I think to myself, though it may prove difficult for the young man to fight with her so close. I offer an encouraging smile to her, which she happily accepts with a smile in return. Such a spirited woman-child. Such grace and undaunted courage she has in that tiny body of her's that has yet to bloom into a woman's. The respect I have for her overflows within me.  
  
Chichiri stands ready next to his horse, and calls out a greeting to Tasuki and I as we approach. We answer his hello, though not as cheerfully as he spoke it. His Highness and Lady Hoki stand side-by-side with the royal advisors, the troubled expressions on their faces no doubt betraying the tumultuous thoughts running through their minds. They offer Tasuki and I a smile of greeting, but seem too tired to do much else. My heart goes out to them. To see your friends and comrades preparing to fight you and their empire is a hard sight to bear.  
  
A stable boy delivers a saddled horse to Mitsukake, the giant of a man I remember meeting just before Tasuki left for Hokkan. Then the lad returns again with another horse for Tasuki, handing the reins to him before bowing and trotting off to return to his duties. My husband clenches the leather reins of his mare, looking her over for a moment before turning to me with a look of regret in his eyes. Baffled, I walk closer to him, trying to see behind his eyes. And I think for a moment that I hear his inner voice, a sad voice that seems to sigh with lament. Why do you love me, I can hear his heart say. All I do is leave you.  
  
My eyes narrow and I step up to him, directing my gaze into his. Yes, you did leave me once, and you're about to do it again. But you came back, and you're going to do that again as well.  
  
Somehow, I know that he hears me. His eyes soften and the sighing sounds of his mourning heart quiet until they are silent. We look at each other in perfect peace and understanding, knowing in our hearts that our life is not over yet.  
  
"May Suzaku protect you," His Highness replies, his voice laden with anxiety and grief. "May you all return safely, and may Konan be saved."  
  
Tasuki's eyes never leave mine, and as his other hand grips his horse's reins, one hand pulls me into a soft embrace. I curl myself into him, thinking not of what is to come, but what is right now. Here. In this place. In my husbands's embrace.  
  
"I love you, Tansho," he whispers into my ear, his voice clear and full of vigor as I have always known it to be. "Wait for me. I will come back."  
  
"I will," I answer without hesitation, "I know that I will see you again, Tasuki." I pull away to look at him, my eyes shining with the wildness of my love within me. "I love you."  
  
And with that, he slips his boot into the stirrup, and hauls himself upon his saddle. With the last calls of farewells, I watch my husband ride away from me towards the south gates of the palace that will lead him into the center of the city. He will ride with his companions to the gates of the capital, and from there to the battlefields on the eastern border. And when he reaches that place of steel and blood and fire and death, he will fight as I have told him to fight. He will fight for those he loves, for Konan, and for himself. And he will be magnificent.  
  
A/N: Hey there, guys!!! I'm finally back. See, I promised you that I'd get the next chapter up if it killed me. And, believe me, I had to go through some tough shit to get things worked out with my damn laptop. ^_^ Thank you immensely for being so patient. Thank you so much!!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I promise not to ever make you wait that long again for another update (if I can help it. ^_^)  
  
Luv you all!  
  
Aama 


	54. What It Is To Grieve

Chapter 54  
What It Is To Grieve  
  
After I see Tasuki's back disappear beyond the gates of the palace, I turn and retreat in the direction of the seraglio. I know that it is a horrid breech of etiquette for me to take my leave of the emperor and empress without a farewell word and respectful bow, but I am hardly able to even carry the weight of my body much less force it to bend at the waist in order to be proper. I sense their eyes following me, but I feel only tenderness and sympathy in the warmth of their regal gazes. They understand and are showing me mercy by excusing my behavior, although their advisors don't bother being obvious in glaring disapprovingly at me.  
  
I am relieved beyond belief to pass through the gates of the seraglio. Although I feel completely safe within the walls of the palace itself, I believe that in the single day I have been here I have somehow formed a bond with the harem. The air here is full of serenity and warmth, as if not a single trace of the evil world outside has ever blemished it. And yet I am anything but serene and warm. My heart burns madly inside my chest, trying to keep the flood of emotions from coursing through me. And my skin is raised in goose bumps as if a chill is blowing over me from the north. I stop on the veranda of the building where my chambers are and simply look into the distance, over the far wall of the seraglio and to the horizon where the ocean meets the land.  
  
Dear gods. I am alone again. He has left me again. My eyes stare into the simple beauty of the world beyond the harem wall, and I find myself consumed by what I thought I had truly conquered. I am safe here. And I have Misa, Koi, Okichi, Lady Junko and all the other courtesans, so I am not alone. But I am without him, and my heart understands this far too well for its own good. And it is possible that I could never have him with me again.  
  
Why can I not be an ignorant, innocent girl who believes that all love stories end in happiness and nothing else? Why in hell's name did I learn the ways of the world and the ways of the people within it so damn quickly? There are girls my age who are still unknowing of the brutality and rottenness of society. They are protected carefully by their mothers and fathers, hidden away until marriage, when the world will suddenly begin to either blossom in love or wither away in cruelty. Why did I have to be thrust into the sweaty, stinking arms of the world of whores and pimps? And why must I know that war kills? Why must I know that the love stories can end in tragedy as well as in happiness? Why must I know that it is possible I may never see my husband again?  
  
Having drowned myself in my own doubts and fears, I shuffle as quickly as my small feet can manage to my chambers, where I immediately collapse in my bed. The tears come soon enough, leaking from behind my firmly shut eyelids. Naho's girlish yet undeniably soothing voice echoes inside my skull, bouncing off the images of Tasuki on the battlefield, his golden skin smeared with his blood.  
  
"Lady Tansho," my handmaid whispers. I can sense her presence above me, telling me that she's leaning over my body. "I see that all is not with you, my lady. Would you like me to leave you to yourself for awhile?"  
  
I try my hardest not to sob as I smile faintly at her and nod my head. She says nothing else. But, before she leaves, she goes to my wardrobe, withdraws one of my sleeping gowns, and lays it silently at the foot of my canopied bed. I hear the sound of my door shutting gently behind Naho, and when I am sure she has moved well enough along the veranda to be out of hearing range, I allow the anguish ripping my insides to spill out in one long wail of pure sorrow.  
  
Gods, I think to myself, you sound like a monster. But I cannot stop. I thought I would be fine. I knew the hurt of watching my husband ride away to war would naturally cause me some grief, but I never expected to suddenly be bombarded by it in a single, soul-crushing moment. No matter how hard I try to put my emotions under control, I cannot manage to halt the animalistic sounds coming from my gaping mouth. And my lovely multicolored pillows are darkening by the second with the torrent of my tears.  
  
I go on howling and crying as if my beloved Tasuki were already dead and buried deep in the ground. I fold my hands over my face, hoping to stop the terrible sounds of my grieving voice from coming out, but it does no good. Sobs explode from my heaving chest again and again until I am sure I will pass out upon my bed. But I stay wide awake, my eyes gradually reddening with the harshness of my weeping, and I stare into space as I lie on my lavender coverlet, my soul slowly breaking apart.  
  
I have no idea that an entire day goes by until I hear the sound of my door opening, and roll over sluggishly in my bed to see Naho standing in the alcove with a tray in her hands. The smells of food tickle my nose, but my stomach is indifferent. I have no appetite, and no desire whatsoever to sit and eat as if nothing in the world is wrong. I turn my back on my handmaid as she walks toward the foot of the bed, where the small table sits. The sound of metal upon wood reaches my ears, but I have no use for the sounds of the world any more.  
  
I am lost in a void of helplessness and sadness, abandoned by my own will to live. It is as if I have no use for anything anymore. I see things - the beauty of the night outside my window and the stars embedded in it. I hear things - the soothing, rhythmic sound of the cicadas and crickets outside my window. I smell the scents of my supper - steamed rice and vegetables, and the thick aroma of roasted pork. I can feel the softness of my lovely bed, and I can taste the salt of my own tears. But I am closed off from this place, lost in the world of mourning, and unable to find my way back on my own.  
  
Naho attempts to persuade me to change into my nightdress, but I keep my eyes on the window of my room, staring out into the black void of the night, ignoring my handmaid. I only want to be left alone to try my best to deal with the torrid emotions that are ravishing me. After a few more minutes, the poor girl finally understands that I am not concerned about wrinkled my yellow and blue outfit if I sleep in it, and she takes her leave silently. I feel a tinge of what might be guilt for being so cold to my handmaid, but suddenly my mind is attacked by a vision of Tasuki, his sword gleaming in the moonlight as he thrusts it into the heart of an enemy. And then I see the same done to him in return, blood pouring from his lips, eyes vacant and staring lifelessly towards me.  
  
A moan escapes my mouth, and I bury my face in my hands yet again as another wave of tears and sobs washes over me, slowly beginning to drown me again. All night I lie and weep, my soft cries interrupted every now and then by a violent gasp of air or cough, my lungs obviously sending a message to me that they cannot withstand this torture much longer. And so, sometime near dawn, I rise silently from my curled position on the bed, change into my nightgown, and return to the place I have lain all night to continue on in my misery. But the tears stop, as do the sobs and gasps, and I only lie in silence, going blind with visions of the memories I have of Tasuki. And when I am not envisioning him as he was so many months ago, I am slowly going mad with the images of him meeting his death upon the battlefield. And yet I do not cry any longer, only grieve in silence and solitude, wondering if I will live through another day knowing that my beloved husband may not.  
  
The morning comes and I am still in my bed, though sometime during the night I managed to crawl beneath the soft linens and lavender coverlet to protect myself from the chill in the air caused by the seasonal transition from summer to autumn. I must have slept at some point because I feel strangely refreshed, and yet I cannot seem to find the strength to so much as sit up in bed. So I wait patiently for whatever may come, and soon Naho enters the alcove of my chambers after knocking timidly and receiving no reply. I sense her approaching my bedside, but my eyes do not budge from the window to greet her.  
  
"Lady Tansho?" she replies quietly as if not wanting to startle me. "I have brought breakfast for you. Would you like to eat now, or perhaps bathe and then dine?"  
  
I have to force myself to suppress a chuckle of disgust. This poor girl-child is as ignorant as I wish I could be - either that or she is simply indifferent to what happens outside these palace walls. My husband is probably fighting for his own life as well as the lives of his countrymen at this very moment, and my maid is wondering whether I would prefer to take a bath or eat first. I jerk myself onto my back and glare at Naho with the eyes of a mad woman. She flinches as if I slapped her in the face.  
  
"I wouldn't care for any breakfast, Naho," I reply coldly, "And if I wish to bathe then I will fetch my own water." I slowly roll back onto my side and re-focus my attention on the view outside my window. "Thank you, Naho," I say, my voice still as chilly as winter air, "That will be all."  
  
For a moment she is silent, no doubt too shocked by my coldness to reply. But after a few uncomfortable moments, she seems to find her voice. "Yes, my lady," she says to me, "If you should require my services, you need only to pull the cord in your bathing room and I will come."  
  
I make no reply to this, only listen as the sound of my door closing reverberates across my walls as if it were scolding me. I return to the world of my mind, and soon forget about my surroundings. As the day passes in a blur of light and images, I am caught up in myself, remembering the few days that Tasuki and I had together before he had to leave the first time on his mission to Hokkan. I see visions of us making love, wildly and amorously just as all new lovers would do. I feel his hands on the place hidden between my legs, and I feel the warmth of his breath as his lips trail gently over the curves of my shoulders. I listen to the conversations we shared about my family and Mount Reikaku, and I hear the sound of his boisterous, uninhibited laugh.  
  
Once again, I do not realize that the day is over until I see the darkness of night beyond my window; and even then, I do not care at all that another day has been devoured by my mourning. And so they pass on, one after the other, like birds flying past my window. And I forget about them. I ignore the way my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth from lack of water. I ignore the continuous cramps and pangs of my empty stomach. I ignore the crick in my neck and back from spending so many hours on my side, staring out the window. I ignore the pleading in Koi and Okichi's voices, the threats in Misa's, the naïve worry in Naho's, and the anxiety in Lady Junko's. Once, I believe that Lady Hoki comes to my room. I sense the air around me fill with her elegant presence, and yet even then I cannot find the strength to rouse myself from my grief-induced stupor. But one day, when my friends' worry turns into pure desperation, someone comes to my room that I know that I cannot ignore.  
  
I sense her when she enters, just as I sensed the presence of my empress. But hers is a much more humble presence, an earth-based presence that instantly makes me want to force my body into a sitting position just to watch her walk towards me. But I lie still in the position I've been in for gods know how long, and I wait until the bed gives beneath her weight as she sits at my side.  
  
"Tansho."  
  
Asako's voice is that of a goddess, a commanding yet gentle voice that I suspect could even rouse the dead from their graves if she wished to do so. Its softness echoes off the walls like the sound of ocean waves, soothing me. I respond to it, and I am somehow able to turn my face in her direction, gazing upwards for the first time in days.  
  
"Tansho," she repeats, her womanly lips smiling down at me, "You cannot go on like this, little one," she says to me, lifting her hand to trail a finder down the curve of my face. "You must get up and live. You must not leave your husband a widower when he returns from war."  
  
How ironic that she should say such a thing. I want to tell her so, but my tongue is stuck to the interior of my mouth and I can do nothing but move my lips clumsily.  
  
"This is not good for you, little one," she goes on, "You are sad and lonely - I understand this, but your husband is not dead yet. You must not mourn for a loved one not yet gone."  
  
"But...he is...gone," I somehow manage to mutter, my dry tongue lolling around inside my mouth lazily. "He is gone again."  
  
"Oh, my darling girl," she whispers, laying her hands on mine and squeezing them gently. "Yes, he is gone, but..."  
  
I know what she will try to tell me. And I will not stand for it any longer. I have heard it far too many times, and although I want more than anything to believe what she is about to say, I must follow the path of logic - the path of the possible, no matter how cruel it may be. Yes, he is gone, but not yet dead. How in hell does she know this?! She cannot see him on the battlefield! She cannot converse with him to see if he hides a festering wound beneath his tunic, refusing to be treated if it means he must stop fighting! I glare at her, but not hatefully. I could never hate Asako even though I wish I could at this moment.  
  
"Don't say another word!" I command her, my voice suddenly returning to me in its intensity and ferocity. "Don't tell me that he is gone, but not yet dead! He could be dying at this very moment and I would not know until weeks from now!" I feel the tears springing up like fountains behind my eyes, and I blink furiously to try to hold them back. No more weeping! I am through! "Asako," I say calmly, "You do not know what it is to grieve like this. You do not know the sorrow of falling in love and being separated from that love twice - and the even greater sorrow of not knowing whether he still lives or not. I don't know if he is going to return for me this time!" My voice has risen like a storm, its force causing my dear Asako's eyes to gaze at me in a mixture of fear and reverence. "I know that you love me and that you only wish to see me happy. But happiness is something that I will not be able to know again until he returns to me safely. I miss him, Asako. I miss him like I miss the freedom of happiness."  
  
Her arms wrap around me, pulling me upwards and into her chest, where they cuddle me like the child I was so long ago. "Do what you must, little one," she whispers into my hair, "But you cannot die yet, not when he may still live. You must continue living for his sake, if not your own. I only pray that this damned war is over soon so that your happiness can be returned safely to your arms."  
  
"As do I," I answer quietly, my cheek nestled gently in the hollow of Asako's throat. "As do I."  
  
I am loathe to see Asako leave me, but she is training to become a midwife and I know that it is imperative she return to her mentor as soon as possible. I look forward to the day when her hands will cradle the warm, bruised, wrinkled body of a newborn just delivered from his mother's womb. I imagine what he eyes will look like in that moment - soft and proud. Asako has the hands and eyes of a midwife. They are immortally wise and gentle, and they were meant to belong to a midwife.  
  
When she leaves, I am left alone again. But I do not return to my bed to lie in my misery once again. I get up and explore my chambers. I walk through my bedroom, my alcove, my bathing room, studying and memorizing. I run my hands across the beautiful wood of my new wardrobe, my vanity table, and the smooth interior of my jade-tiled bath. I breathe in the scent of the fresh orchids that Naho placed in a vase in my alcove. I sit down at the little table at the foot of my bed and eat for the first time in nearly a week, ravenously devouring the roasted pork and drinking the sweet, warm tea in gulps. I don't bother with chopsticks. I tear the tender meat from the bone with my teeth and drink the tea straight from the pot instead of using a cup. I don't care that my stomach cramps afterward, surprised with so much food after being denied of it for so long. I sigh deeply when I finish my feast, a feeling of complete contentment settling gently over me.  
  
When night comes, I change into a fresh nightgown to replace the one I have been in for nearly a week and sit down at my vanity table to comb out the tangles on the right side of my head. When my hair is smooth and straight, I return to bed. Although I had drifted in and out of sleep while in my trance-like state, I had not once truly slept deeply enough to dream. But I dream tonight.  
  
I see red skies and red ground. Black shapes perched atop larger black shapes swirl and flow like dark water across the redness. And when I understand what I am seeing, a battlefield in all its horror and magnificence comes into my view. The souls of the dead rise from the red ground into the red sky like smoke from a fire, disappearing into nothing as I watch from a safe place, though I', not exactly sure where that safe place is. There is the sound of metal clashing violently against metal, mixed thickly with the voices of warriors and the voices of the injured and dying. They rise along with the smoky souls of the dead, curling around each other and clinging to each other as they rise together into Heaven. And in the midst of the crimson sky and ground and the smoky spirits and voices, I see him in the distance. His face is radiant, his hair vibrant, his heart beating so powerfully that I can see it glowing through his tunic and armor. His voices rises above the harsh and frightening sounds of battle and whispers in my ear as softly as the ocean waves in which we swam on our wedding night.  
  
"I will not leave you yet, Tansho," he sighs into my ear, his words burning my bones and my blood. "We are bound together and cannot be taken apart. When you dream, I will be here waiting for you. And one day when you wake, I will be there waiting for you as well."  
  
I wake up and stare into beautiful darkness, still seeing the glowing beat of his heart and the glory of his face. He is still here. And one day when I awake from my sleep and my dreams, he will be at my side, waiting for me as I wait for him now.  
  
A/N: Hey there, all!! ^_^ I thought that since I made you wait so damn long for the last chapter that I'd be quick in editing and uploading this new chapter. Hope you enjoy it!  
  
Also, thanks eternally for the wonderful reviews and for sticking with me and still loving my story so much!! Thanks especially to Kitty Lynne, who has always seemed to challenge me the most in my writing and encourage me at the same time. Luv you all and talk to you again soon! ^_^ 


	55. In the Courtyard

Chapter 55  
In The Courtyard  
  
The days pass by much faster than I ever expected them to. And what is even more strange and wonderfully surprising is that they pass in ways I never dreamed possible. If I were still living incarcerated as a slave and prostitute in the Black Dove, there wouldn't be a chance in hell that I'd ever believe entire mornings could be spent having your hands and feet massaged with almond oil. And I would never believe afternoons could be spent lounging in the shade of magnolia trees like a lazy cat or strolling in the marketplaces without the slightest intention of buying something. I would never believe that there would be dinner parties where only women were in attendance, where anything and everything on earth could be discussed openly without any inhibition.  
  
It is not hard for me to adjust to the calm, indifferent life of the harem. I am more than willing to be absorbed by the dimness of the courtyard, chatting and sipping tea with the courtesans. I am more than happy to have the freedom to step outside my door and go wherever I please. The freedom, I believe, is the most extraordinary thing. Evens when I was an innocent, untainted child I was never like I am now. I am a woman who has the ability to go, say, do, and be what she pleases. I am no longer ordered by a man to remove my clothes and spread my legs. I am no longer forced to endure the beatings and curses and unpredictability of the brothel. I am free.  
  
And yet I still struggle like a wounded deer to rise from my bed each morning. I know that I must get up and live, but my heart still longs to simply lie down and mourn what I no longer have with me - my beloved warrior, my husband, and my friend. I miss him more as each day goes by. There is nothing that doesn't remind me of him in some way. I see his flaming hair in the fires of the seraglio hearths. I see his strange, gold- green eyes in the deepest parts of the ocean when I peer off the docks.  
  
On some mornings I am tempted to just lie still when Naho wakes me with the announcement of breakfast. But Asako's words and my dream of Tasuki still echo inside the caves of my mind, and I somehow summon the willpower to get up, bathe, eat, and dress myself for the day. And some days I am as happy as I should be, seeing how I've been practically pulled from the bottom of society and tenderly placed atop it. But on some days I find myself wandering aimlessly through the garden, my eyes staring far off in the distance, my arms dangling lifelessly at my side. On these days, I find a soul mate in dear Okichi, who has also lost someone she loves to the unpredictable hostility of war. We walk together sometimes, encouraging each other, holding each other, and whispering that all will be well. I cannot describe how elated I am for Okichi. To find love as we did in a place where love cannot blossom without the help of Fate is a miracle. And both of us realize this. Her face lights up like a lantern each time she mentions Tokizo's name, making me smile as well at the mention of my dear friend who watched over me during the tumultuous days following the emperor's decree. I dread what could happen. To lose a husband and dear friend could doom me, and to see Okichi as she mourns for her lost love would surely kill me if the news of Tasuki and Tokizo's deaths didn't. And so we pray and hope, and let our faith fill us to the brim.  
  
The morning that he returns to the capital is a morning like no other. It has been nearly a month since his departure and Autumn is setting in gently and slowly as if it doesn't wish to startle us, and the leaves are tipped with beautiful, deep shades of brown and yellow and red. The air has taken on a welcome chill, banishing the warmth that is still trying to desperately hang on to the late summer. And on the morning Koi comes barging into my room, her uncombed hair flying madly behind her, I am strangely already awake as if I knew she were bringing me news. When I see her eyes, I know. He is here.  
  
"Tansho," Koi gasps, stumbling into my bedroom like a drunkard and grasping one of my bedposts. "I saw Tasuki in the palace's main courtyard! He's here, Tansho. He's in the palace!"  
  
Even though I knew in my heart that she was bringing momentous news, I am still shocked beyond comprehension. He's here, my mind repeats over and over to itself. He's here, in the palace, so close. My eyes rise to meet Koi's, asking her what I should do. My heart longs more than anything to flee from my chambers and run with all my might toward the main courtyard, and yet my heart also trembles inside of me in sorrow. If I see him, I will be satisfied simply by being able to touch him, to speak with him, to know that he is still in this world. And yet, if I see him, I will most likely have to watch him leave me again, for the war surely isn't over. He must surely return to the battlefields. He must surely have to leave me again. Can I bear that? Can I watch him leave again?  
  
I feel a hand fold itself over mine, and I look up into the eyes of Koi, my dearest friend. She understands. I can see it deep inside of her ocean-blue eyes.  
  
"Tansho," she says, "You must go see him even if it means you have to see him leave again. I don't want to say this, dear, to hurt you, but you never know what could happen to him when he leaves the palace's gates after today."  
  
She speaks the truth. I have always known this truth. And that is why I know I must go see him.  
  
"Come with me," I say to her. "I may need you to carry me back to seraglio." A smile spreads across her girlish face, pleased to know that I haven't yet lost my sense of humor.  
  
We walk swiftly though the courtyards and across the verandas of the palace, making our way towards the main courtyard as quickly as possible. To the north of the monstrous courtyard lies His Highness's throne room, and in front of it are stationed nearly a dozen imperial soldiers. Even as honored guests of the palace, the two of us would never be allowed anywhere near the main entrance of the throne room, much less inside of it. So we linger in the shadows of one of the many surrounding buildings, watching and waiting for whatever may happen. And to my surprise, we don't have to wait very long. Only a few minutes after we've arrived, I see two men exit the throne room, both of them practically running down the several dozen stairs that lead from the emperor's throne room to the huge courtyard below. And as they enter the sunlight of the courtyard, I instantly recognize the brilliant orange of Tasuki's hair, shining like gold and fire. My heart leaps inside of me, almost painfully. My blood flows hot. My feet immediately move forward, without waiting for my command or even my consent.  
  
"Tasuki!" I whisper, my hands fluttering forward as if he were right in front of me. I see him stop mid-stride, his body suddenly rigid, his face hidden from my view. His companion, a young man with strangely beautiful hair the color of sapphires stops as well when he realizes Tasuki is no longer at his side. From where I stand in the shadows, I can see him narrow his eyes at his Tasuki, curious as to what's wrong with him. And then my husband turns in my direction, his eyes searching for me as if he knows I am here. When they catch sight of me, they become alive. He opens his mouth as if to call out to me, but I don't give him time to speak. In only a few seconds, I have darted from the shadows like a cat, my skirts lifted to my knees, my legs pumping wildly, and I am running to him. I have forgotten about Koi, and I am blind to the presence of my husband's comrade. I see only Tasuki, and all thoughts of war, the seraglio, or myself have disappeared from my mind. My only thought is that I must reach him before he leaves me again, before I see him turn his back and ride away into war yet again.  
  
He stands perfectly still, as if his body were frozen from shock at my sudden appearance. When I am within reach of him, I literally throw myself into his arms, crushing myself to him to fiercely that I knock the breath from my lungs and am left panting in his embrace. I feel his arms engulf me, and a noise which resembles a gasp of relief suddenly bursts from his lips.  
  
"Tansho," he says simply, his tone resembling that of a man who has lost something and now has it in his possession again. My name is breathed into my hair, and it lingers there by my ears, singing softly to me.  
  
We stand perfectly still for the longest time, clinging to each other, grateful to simply be able to hold each other again. I press my cheek into his chest, against his heartbeat, my mouth gaping open to allow precious air into my empty lungs. I never expected that I would miss him so much once I saw him again. Was it a mistake to come here? Will it do me more harm than good now that I've been with him again?  
  
After what seems a glorious eternity, his hands rest themselves on my shoulders and push me gently away from him. A smile of pure happiness is spread on his face, but in his eyes I can see the shadows of sadness. I frown and blink, questioning him with my expression. He closes his eyes and lets out an exhausted sigh, an obvious sign that his days so far have not been idle. I feel so much sorrow clinging to him, and so much doubt. This is how he was when he returned from his journey to Hokkan and Sairo. But what is wrong? What has happened?  
  
"Why are you here?" I ask bluntly, though not demandingly. He inhales deeply, but I can see that my forward question hasn't flustered him.  
  
"Things are not going well on the battlefield," he replies calmly, his voice nearly emotionless. His fingers curl harder around my shoulders. "The major cities that sit on Konan's eastern borders are under hard attack by the Kutou forces. One has been conquered, and another is still being bombarded as we speak. We were sent as messengers to relay the news to His Highness." He motions to his companion when he finishes. I can already sense that there is something else. He's trying to delay telling me something, possibly planning on not telling me at all.  
  
Suddenly Koi is at my side, her hand on mine, drawn to the conversation of the war. I am glad that she is here, and I turn to her with apology in my eyes for suddenly abandoning her in she shadows of the courtyard. She only smiles and shakes her head. I then urge my husband on with my eyes, demanding that he tell me what has happened that has caused a fog of uncertainty to settle over his face.  
  
"There is something else, Tasuki," I reply smoothly, "Tell me what else has happened." He hangs his head momentarily, then lifts it again, staring off into the thick Autumn sky above us. He seems to be looking for something, and yet he doesn't seem to know where to look. His eyes return to me, full of doubt and a small hint of fear.  
  
"Miaka and Tamahome have vanished," he says.  
  
"Vanished?" I immediately retort, narrowing my eyes. "You mean to tell me that the enemy..."  
  
"No," he replies quickly, cutting me off, "The enemy doesn't have them. They were..." Once again his eyes roam sky-ward before he continues. "They were here one minute and gone the next," he says, "A bright light swallowed both of them, totally surrounded them. And when it was gone - they were gone too." He steps closer to me, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "I think that Seiryu took them back to Miaka's world. I think that the Priestess of Seiryu did it just to try to get rid of Miaka and Tamahome."  
  
Nothing that he has said makes any sense, and yet I feel myself slowly understanding it. A light took the priestess and her warrior-lover from this world to hers? I shake my head in puzzlement. "It doesn't make sense," I whisper, releasing Koi's hand and bringing my hands to my face to cradle my cheeks in my palms. "It doesn't make sense." I feel his arms around me again, comforting me. This has no doubt taken a tole on him as well. Even though he has lost his celestial powers, he is still a warrior of the priestess. Not knowing where she is or what happened to her is most likely slowing driving him mad. I hold him to me firmly, encouraging him with the beat of my heart and the swell of my lungs. At least he is still here.  
  
"Tansho," he says, his voice suddenly seeming to come alive. Intrigued, I glance up into his eyes. His smile has returned, his genuine playful smile that belongs with him always. "I want you to meet someone. This is Koji," he says, stepping back from me and laying a hand firmly on the shoulder of his comrade. More than willing and eager to steer our thoughts and conversation away from war, I smile broadly at my husband's companion and bow slightly.  
  
"Koji, this is Tansho," Tasuki continues, "my wife."  
  
At this, the young man chuckles. "No matter how many times you tell me, Genro, I don't think I'll ever get used to ya' saying it." A lop-sided grin that greatly resembles my husband's appears on Koji's face, suddenly bringing to my attention his scarred cheek. It is a fierce scar that was no doubt painful to receive, and yet it gives the young man a relaxed, serene demeanor. I can't help but instantly compare him to water, just I would compare Tasuki to fire.  
  
"Hello, Koji," I reply happily.  
  
"Hey, Tansho," he answers just as enthusiastically, "Genro's talked non-stop about ya' since we joined up on the battlefield. It's an honor to finally meet ya'." The thick accent of his masculine voice is obviously the same as Tasuki's. Suddenly my mind makes a connection when I realize this. Is he? Could he be one of them?  
  
"You're from Reikaku." It is more of a surprised statement than a question. He responds with an enthusiastic "yeah". I am suddenly grinning like a mad woman, my hands curled tightly to my breasts in glee. Why in hell I am so ecstatic is beyond me. Perhaps it is because I have longed to be close to the mountain under which I was born, or just to be close to the place that will be my home very soon, gods willing that this war ends without taking my husband with it to the grave.  
  
"Koji's been holding down the fort since I left to come to the capital with Miaka and the others," Tasuki says, patting his friend firmly on the shoulder blade. "It'll be good to go back after all these months. I've missed the hell out of that place."  
  
"It'll be good to have ya' back, Genro," Koji replies. He then throws a grin at me before adding, "And it'll be a nice to have a lady around, too, Tansho. That place could use a little bit of feminine care, if ya' know what I mean." I chuckle giddily, genuinely amused for the first time in quite awhile. I have taken an immediate liking to this charismatic, serene young man. He seems to be the opposite of his best friend, and that seems to keep the two of them in balance with each other and the world around them.  
  
I see Koji's strange eyes glance beside me, and for a moment I think that I see something hiding there akin to fascination, like the feeling one would have toward an elusive bird or a rare flower. A moment later, I realize that he is gazing at Koi, who is still holding my hand gently in hers, silently waiting for me to remember her presence. I gasp in apology and lift my dear friend's hand to kiss her palm lovingly.  
  
"Oh, forgive me!" I cry, partially in seriousness and partially in jest, "I have forgotten all about my dear Koi!" I smile broadly and introduce Tasuki's friend to mine, and watch in interest as they bow slowly to each other, both obviously taking into regard the features of the other. Intrigued, I raise an eyebrow and glance at my husband from the corner of my eye. He responds with a wicked grin, his fangs poking out from beneath his lips.  
  
Koi and Koji exchange a few words, most of which make their mutual interest in each other obvious. And as they chat shyly, I take the opportunity to talk privately with Tasuki.  
  
"Are you well?" I ask softly. He nods and smiles down at me, but doesn't reply. His heart and his mind are still far away, I realize. He did not plan on seeing me, so he has not had time to prepare himself. I can feel his fear to discuss war with me, his uncertainty as to how I will react.  
  
"And the others, besides the priestess and Tamahome?"  
  
"Mostly well. Mitsukake was injured a few days before Koji and I left to report to His Highness, but Chichiri is caring for him and says he's doing fine," he answers hesitantly. Suddenly, his eyelids droop and his mouth straightens itself into a tight, thin line. "I've been debating whether or not to tell you this, but I can't really find a reason why you shouldn't know. You would find it out sooner or later."  
  
Surprised, I narrow my eyes at him, also somewhat irked that he would even think to keep something from me, much less confess to it. "What is it?" I ask.  
  
"His Highness Hotohori is going to be leaving with us when we return to the eastern front," he states without hesitation. "He wishes to command his forces on his own, not from the safety of the palace."  
  
"What?!" I whisper, my voice a choked rasp. "But he can't leave-"  
  
"He knows what he must do, Tansho," Tasuki quickly retorts, keeping me from protesting something I have no right to protest against. "And he must do it."  
  
Understanding, I nod blankly and press my fingers to my lips. Hoki. Poor Lady Hoki. As if reading my mind, Tasuki takes my hands in his and continues. "Don't speak of this to anyone, Tansho. His Highness will announce his intentions very soon. It is best that Hoki, his advisors, and everyone else find out from him and not one of us." I nod quickly in agreement, though I am still somewhat in shock.  
  
What is the man thinking? I understand his desire to fight for his people and his empire, but certainly he must know that his place is not on he battlefield. The danger. The ferocity. The unpredictability. If he does not survive, what will become of Konan?  
  
"Tan," Tasuki whispers, still holding my hands. I adore the sound of his pet name. So simple and true. So plainly beautiful. "I gotta go."  
  
"I know," I reply calmly.  
  
"This is the reason I was hoping to come and go without you finding out I was here. I didn't want to have to tell you goodbye again. I didn't want you to have to watch me leave again. I'm sorry."  
  
"There's no reason to be sorry," I reply firmly, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head, "I must simply be the one to leave this time."  
  
I trail my fingers up to his face and bring him down to my level, where I place a tender, soft kiss upon his lips and forehead. "Goodbye," I say, my voice pure, simple, and placid. "I will see you again soon, my love."  
  
"Goodbye," he answers, his voice betraying him. The sorrow is deep in his chest, and he keeps it there. I can feel it, and although I want him to let it go free, to share it with me, I understand his reasons for wanting to keep it hidden.  
  
Koi states her solemn farewell to Koji and Tasuki, and Koji does the same to Koi and I. And with a final gaze into the eyes of my husband and a soft smile to his closest comrade, I disappear once again into the shadows of the great courtyard, Koi at my side, her small, comforting hand entwined with mine.  
  
A/N: Hello there, all! I hope all of you had a great Christmas. My mom was in the hospital so mine was a little down, but it got up real quick once she got home ^_^ Anyways, I thought I'd answer some reviews since it's been awhile since I talked to ya'll one-on-one.  
  
Jen wit 1 n: Thank you for the sweet compliment about my chapter content. What fun is an exciting chap. Followed by a bland one, huh? ^_^  
  
Mystic-Kitty06: Thanks so much for the compliment on my scenery and dialogue. And I promise that I won't wait a freakin' decade until my next update, OK? Hopefully I'll never ever do that to my beloved readers again.  
  
Lee Larrabee: A lot of other reviewers mentioned what you talked about in your review, so I'm answering yours and theirs all in one big AN at the end, OK?  
  
Railyn: I promise that the end will be what it should be. ^_^ (I'm a teaser ain't I?) Also, the same goes for you as Lee Larrabee. I'm addressing the last part of your review along with hers.  
  
Lady Viola: Yes - poor little Naho. All will end well there, though. And thank you so much for the compliment.  
  
Otaku-no-miko: Wow!! Half a year? ^_^ * blushes * Thanks for the great compliments on the characters - especially Tansho. And I'm so happy to hear that my writing has helped you with yours. And as with the others - I'm addressing your last comment at the ending AN, OK?  
  
Ending AN: Ok, here we go! ^_^ I noticed that a lot of you mentioned something mutual in your last reviews - Tansho's unusual behavior following Tasuki's departure. You all mentioned that she seemed childish or selfish for acting the way she did (i.e holing up in her room, refusing to get out of bed, being ornery, and basically thinking all about herself). Yes, I admit that she was definitely being selfish - but you must understand that it was a direct result of grief. Tansho has been through a lot with Tasuki, and she was just recently reunited with him only a few days earlier, but now he's had to leave her yet again. In that chapter I wanted to portray Tansho as a wife worrying for the safety of her husband, and although she is definitely being self-absorbed, I think she has a damn good reason to be. Yes, I created Tansho to be an emotionally strong woman, but she's not made of steel or anything. She does feel deep pain, and in that particular chapter, she dealt with that pain in her own way (even though it was extremely childish). I continued to idea of unnaturally painful grief by making Asako's firm motherliness the only thing able to snap Tansho out of it.  
  
I hope this cleared some things up for those of you wondering about it. And please don't dislike Tansho! ^_^ She couldn't help it - I did it to her! ^_^  
  
Bye now. I'll see you guys later! Aama 


	56. The Bloodstained Magnolia

Chapter 56  
The Bloodstained Magnolia  
  
However strange it may sound, it is true: I am genuinely happy. A fog of sorrow and insecurity has shrouded the entire palace since His Highness Hotohori rode into battle with Tasuki and Koji two weeks ago. All around me are hushed voices and sad eyes and down-turned lips, and yet inside of me I am so alive that at times I feel more guilt than happiness. I do not know for the life of me exactly what has cheered my heart so much. A few weeks ago I was simply going through the motions of living - walking, speaking, eating - and yet I always felt more dead that alive. At times I felt a tinge of happiness in me, such as when I would visit Asako in the city or sit in the sweetness of the seraglio courtyard talking contentedly with the courtesans. But I never knew true happiness such as I feel now could be possible in my circumstances. My husband is away at war. And my future, although free and safe, is in the hands of that war, whether or not it decides to return my husband to me once he has completed his duty.  
  
I see Koi glancing at me from the corners of her blue eyes, grinning happily. And when I ask her why she's smiling, she says it's because I'm smiling. When I have time to actually sit and ponder the reason for my sudden happiness, I suddenly realize that it's because of Koji. When I saw him and heard him speak of Mount Reikaku, it brought it alive in my mind again. The mountain isn't just an enigma or a far-away place that I once knew; it has become a living, breathing thing that is drawing me closer and closer to it. I feel its presence in the distance, as if it knows I plan of coming to it. I see it in my dreams, both at night and during the day. Seeing and meeting Koji was what saved me. Speaking to him and seeing the wildness of his eyes, knowing that he was from Reikaku, made me remember that it's a real place not so far from my grasp.  
  
But remembering the mountain has also brought the bittersweet memories of my family alive again. Day after day I find myself thinking more and more about them, wondering where they are, what they're doing, what they look like, and so many other things that confuse me and worry and fluster me to the point where I'm bordering on depression again. I wonder most about my siblings, whom I loved with all my heart while I was with them. My sister would be a woman now, nearly my age. Does she have a husband? A home of her own? A child, maybe? Is she happy? Is she well? Does she miss our mother as much as I do? It is questions like these that twist and turn inside my mind constantly. I wonder about my two younger brothers quite a lot, too, especially the youngest, the one my mother died for so that he could be born into the world. He would be six or seven years old now. And our father - what has become of him? Even after all these years of cursing him and wondering why in hell he gave me to Shingen to save himself from his debt, I still have no hate for him. The respect that a daughter has for her father has diminished, but I cannot say that I hate him. Hate is a strong, fearful, cowardly word that people try to protect themselves with, and yet to hate someone or something is to be almost inhuman. It doesn't seem emotionally or mentally possible to truly hate another person. I do wonder about him. Is he still living? Is he healthy? Or did other debts he might have had eventually catch up with him? It is very possible that he has joined my mother in the afterlife, but I find myself hoping that this isn't true.  
  
Are they still in the little town in the valley? This is the question that tortures my mind most often. This is the question that I die to answer. And this is the question that both terrifies and excites me. I want to see them again, and yet that very same passion that makes me desire to be reunited with them fuels my desire to elude them forever, to make them think that I was swallowed in the chaos of the capital and never managed to escape. It would be very easy to do that. I could never again set foot in the place I was born. But it would also be very easy to walk into the little town and follow the street to the place my family lived five years ago. They could be there and they could not. But I could go anyway, just to see for myself.  
  
And so the days go on, and they mold themselves into weeks, and soon another month is approaching. The atmosphere of the palace has become like that of a graveyard - silent, airy, and haunted. The sound of laughter startles people because it's been so long since they last heard it. Smiles are usually only ones of sympathy. The way that people now walk reminds you of those following a funeral procession. And yet somehow the interior of the seraglio has retained the serene yet cheerful atmosphere that made me fall in love with it not so long ago.  
  
People dig out reasons and excuses for visiting the seraglio - especially Empress Hoki. My heart bleeds for her as if it's been impaled. The look in her eyes is that of a wraith - lost and slowly on its way to becoming angry. Her sorrow at losing her husband to the uncertainties of war outshines mine like the sun outshines the moon. And so I stay close to her whenever I can, and I can sense the relief in her heart, almost as if its sighing. We truly are kindred souls now. We are very similar, and yet our differences could not be more astounding since my husband is not the emperor of Konan and I am not carrying within me the heir to the empire's throne. But we view each other very differently now. We have a mutual understanding. We can console each other with a single glance of sympathetic yet courageous eyes. And we have become each other's greatest comfort for the time being.  
  
Her belly has a small, smooth curve to it now, and it's exotically beautiful in my eyes. A pregnant woman is a magnificent sight for me to behold. And Lady Hoki carries herself in the way a woman should when she is holding another life within her - she walks with her head high and her eyes leveled, her body swaying, her hands settled atop the firm little bump beneath her swollen breasts. I find myself staring at her in pure admiration. She never weeps. She never speaks His Highness's name. She never physically shows how much and how brutally she mourns, and yet you can feel it in the thick, sweet air that surrounds her. It hangs above her and beside her and clings to her smooth skin like wet cloth. But she never reveals that she knows it's there - and for this I admire her and grieve for her at the same time.  
  
We endure the weeks as the wives of warriors should. We may not have chosen to love the men that we love, but we did choose to stand beside them whenever they need our presence and to wait for them whenever they do not. And this is exactly what we do now - we wait, quietly, patiently, and with so much courage that I feel gazes of awe upon me every now and then.  
  
Tokizo arrives at the palace on a day in the middle of Autumn when the trees are on fire with color. And when Okichi gets word, she disappears before I even have a chance to ask if she'd like company. My dear friend does not bring good news from the battlefield. When he and Okichi come to the seraglio after he has delivered the news to His Highness's advisors, they are walking slowly and heavily, with her obviously supporting him on her strong, feminine shoulder. We sit together in the chilled air of the courtyard, shielded from the falling magnolia blossoms and leaves by one of the gazebos that surround the fountain.  
  
My dear Tokizo's eyes are so bland that they almost appear colorless, and shallow lines have appeared at the corners of those sullen eyes and across his masculine, regal forehead. He has obviously been aged quite a bit by the war. When he speaks though, his voice still holds the firm gentleness that protected me during the months I waited for Tasuki to return from Hokkan. He takes a deep breath and speaks with clear, soft words that carry on them both sorrow and admiration.  
  
"Mitsukake of the Suzaku Seven has passed away," he tells us, sighing deeply. "I have already informed the emperor's advisors and thought that at least someone in the seraglio should know."  
  
My heart cries out in my chest. Another man of Suzaku has died. I lower my head and cover my face with my hands. "How did he die, Tokizo?" I ask quietly. "In battle?"  
  
"No," he answers, and I can tell by the tone of his voice that what he is about to tell us is either a miracle or simply unbelievable. "He just passed away. He was injured quite awhile ago, but instead of returning to the capital to recover, he decided to remain behind on the battlefield to help treat the wounded. It isn't just soldiers who are being wounded in this war though, hundreds of civilians have been injured since fighting began on the eastern borders two months ago. I wasn't there when it happened, but the officer assigned to have me report to the capital told me the best he could. An infant girl was brought by her parents to the battlefield clinic not long after a battle, saying that she was having difficulty breathing. Mitsukake apparently had no medication for her sickness, so he decided to give the child his own life force in order to save her. And so he did. And he died not long after."  
  
I stare in disbelief at the polished wooden floor of the gazebo. He died quietly of his own accord to save the life of a child. I could feel the strength inside that man when I first met him so long ago, and I could feel the calm of his soul - like medicine. I smile softly to myself. Never in my life have I known such noble people as the ones I've met through my husband.  
  
"This means that only four remain." I whisper, mostly to myself.  
  
"Four what?" inquires Okichi.  
  
"Four warriors of Suzaku - Tasuki, Chichiri, His Highness, and Tamahome." I pause for a moment and seal my fingers over my lips in horror. How in hell could I forget? Tamahome isn't even in this world any longer, and neither is the priestess. Tasuki told me a month ago that they suddenly vanished on the battlefield. They are now in Miaka's world. I lift my eyes to gaze intently at Tokizo.  
  
"Is there any word of the priestess and Tamahome?" I ask, lowering my fingers back to my lap.  
  
Tokizo shakes his head sorrowfully. "None."  
  
I send a silent prayer to Suzaku to protect his priestess and his warrior. He may be sealed away from his followers, but I know that he must hear us somehow. He must know that we are fighting in his name. My thoughts then turn to the one man I wish to know the most about. I smile unconsciously.  
  
"And Tasuki? Is he still well?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.  
  
My eyes gaze at Tokizo hopefully, demandingly. He smiles coyly and sweetly, just as I remember his smile, and he reaches down into his red and golden breastplate. He retrieves a piece of parchment, folded and sealed with wax, and hands it to me with a look of happiness in his calm eyes, almost as if he's overjoyed to be handing me this letter. "From your husband," he replies.  
  
My trembling fingers reach out and grasp the letter, my lips whispering a barely audible thank you to my dear friend. I place it in my lap and fold my hands over it, feeling the smooth paper against the sensitive skin of my palms. It's real.  
  
"I must be leaving now," Tokizo replies, "I am expected back on the battlefield by dawn. Okichi, would you accompany me to the palace gates?" She smiles and slips her hand into his as an answer. He stands, with her at his side, and hovers above me for a moment. Without warning, he bends at the waist, places his hands gently upon my shoulders and kisses my forehead with such tenderness that I am compelled to fling my arms around his neck and pull him to me in an embrace. We stand silently for a moment in the cool air of Autumn and hug each other close. I am so grateful for this man, not only for the loyalty he showed to me during the months I was under his protection, but also for the friendship he gave to me during that time. I needed a friend like him more than anything during that time of my life, and I will forever love him because he became that friend.  
  
"Thank you, Tokizo," I whisper. "Thank you for all you have ever done for me."  
  
"You're welcome, Tansho," he replies, hugging me tighter to his armored chest, "And thank you for being such a magnificent and courageous woman."  
  
We part and look each other in the eyes for a moment, and then he is gone with Okichi clinging lovingly to him. As they walk away, I see him wrap an arm protectively around her shoulders, and I thank him silently for loving her so much . I then gaze down into my lap at the sealed letter waiting for me there. I trail my fingers across it and pick it up, weighing it in my hands. And then I break the seal, unfold it, and begin to read my husband's words to me:  
  
"Dear Tansho,  
  
I had a dream about you a few nights ago. I was standing in a field somewhere, and I know there had been fighting there because the grass was stamped down from boots and horse hooves, and there were pools of blood everywhere. The ground was literally flooded with red. And I saw you in the middle of the field, but your feet weren't touching the ground. You were floating above the trampled grass and the spilled blood, and you were holding a white magnolia in your hands. There were bloodstains all over it, and you were wiping them off with the hem of your dress. Eventually, the magnolia was clean, and I expected to see the hem of your dress stained with the blood you wiped away. But it wasn't. Blood wasn't anywhere, not on the flower, not on your dress, not on your hands. It wasn't even on the ground that had been flooded with it only a few moments earlier. And when all the blood was gone, you stopped floating and stood on the ground as if you knew that it was clean. You walked up to me, kissed me, put the magnolia in my hands, and vanished. And when I woke up, I knew that we would win this war.  
  
I love you, Tan, and I'll see you soon.  
  
Your husband, Tasuki."  
  
I sit for a long time reading and re-reading the letter, tears silently rolling down my cheeks. My soul weeps along with me, longing to be with Tasuki, or simply to catch a glimpse of him or hear his voice. My fingers trace his words, trying to feel him through them. And I do feel him. I feel his bravery and his faith, and I feel his love for me and for his country. And I believe him. I believe that Konan will defeat Kutou, and I believe that I will see my husband again some day very soon.  
  
I fold the letter, slip it inside my inner robe next to my heart, stand up, and walk through the beauty of the seraglio courtyard towards my quarters to await the return of my husband.  
  
A/N: Hey there, guys! Sorry that this update took so long, but I just started my second semester of college last week and was a little busy, you know. ^_^ I hope all of you liked this chapter. It's a bit of a filler, I know, but I tried to add in some interesting stuff. ^_^ I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to answer all of your last reviews (though I wish I could). But I will answer a question one of you asked me about chapters 8 & 9. Yes, they're uploaded here - it may just be something wrong with your computer. If you still can't bring them up, just e-mail me and I'll e-mail them to you whenever I can get the chance, OK? ^_^  
  
Thanks again for all the great reviews. As always, they were extremely encouraging. ^_^ Luv you all!!  
  
Aama 


	57. That Winter Day

Chapter 57  
That Winter Day  
  
It was a cold, colorless day early in winter when word reached the seraglio that the war was over. I was alone in my room, sitting comfortably beside my burning hearth when Naho knocked on my door and informed me of the news. It was so sudden and unexpected that it frightened me rather than excited me, and I felt my heart speed up within my chest and my lungs draw air quicker, and I knew that there was a reason for the abrupt halt of the war. Something had happened other than victory or loss.  
  
Without thinking, I rose from my chair and left my warm fire behind me. I threw my door open and commanded the attention of a servant walking down the veranda toward the seraglio gates.  
  
"You there!" I called. "What has happened on the eastern front? Has Konan lost or triumphed?"  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, "Neither, my lady. Konan has both won and lost this war."  
  
And that is how I learned of Emperor Hotohori's death.  
  
I sit here now in the midst of the magnolia trees of the seraglio courtyard, my mind flashing with images of this day. The sun is setting over the west wall and the air has an unnatural chill to it, even for winter. I saw such sorrow today, sorrow that I thought I knew from my many years of being tortured with it. But my heart is frozen with what I witnessed today. I was there when the imperial soldiers sent from the battlefield informed Lady Hoki of her husband's death. Her eyes died before she turned slowly and went back into her room, closing the door silently behind her. She had taken up temporary residence in the seraglio until His Highness returned, but now we all knew it would now become permanent.  
  
I am still haunted by her eyes and by her quiet, peaceful reaction to the news. She was a lady to the end, and will always be a lady. Not once during her husband's absence did she betray her fear or grief, and not once did she weep or mourn his loss. Would she now? I sit here alone in the silent, cold beauty of the courtyard and mourn for Konan and our uncertain future. I sit here and mourn the loss of my emperor, my benefactor, and my friend. I sit here and mourn for my empress and her undeniable grief. I sit here and long for my husband to be here and comfort me. I still have his letter to me, the one telling me of his dream. It came true. Konan won the war. But we lost our emperor in the process. Was it the blood on the magnolia that symbolized the loss of life for the sake of victory? I care little about whether or not I will ever know. All that is of importance now is that the war is over, and yet our troubles are not. I sense unbalance clinging to the coldness of the winter air. I sense chaos and fear and violence, and I know that something momentous is about to happen to Konan - and to the place where our priestess calls her home.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************************  
  
Two days later, he comes back to me for the second time, and I am there to receive him. There is a soft knock of my door, and when I answer it he is there waiting for me. The weariness of his soul covers his handsome, dirty face, and the mischievous gleam to his eyes has diminished noticeably since our last meeting nearly a month ago. The war did the damage that both he and I knew it would do. His spirit has suffered greatly; it is horribly obvious in how the skin of his beautiful face has suddenly creased in places that used to be smooth. It is only after I notice the injuries of his soul that I notice the bandages wrapped tightly around his naked chest and the cloth sling supporting his limp arm. His black overcoat, his only protection against the winter chill, is draped lifelessly across his shoulders. His hair is tousled, dirty, and needs to be trimmed. His face is bruised and smudged with dirt and mud, as is every other exposed part of his body.  
  
"Sorry," he replies quietly, "I should've cleaned up before I came to see you. I just got back a few minutes ago, and I - I didn't want to wait to come see you."  
  
"I'm glad," I answer quietly, stepping toward him carefully as if the movement of my body could cause his injuries even more pain. My hand extends toward his dirty face, and I press my knuckles gently to his cheekbone. The moment my skin makes contact with his, I hear him draw a sharp breath as if startled. Uncertain, I begin to withdraw my hand, but he grabs my wrist and presses the back of my hand to his cheek. He moves my hand within his, kissing my palm, smelling the perfume clinging to my wrist. And he sighs heavily and deeply, breathing my skin into him. And when he has filled himself with me, I gently slip my arms around his injured torso and pull him into my embrace. Slowly and peacefully, he accustoms his body to mine, learning our shapes and angles again, and then he embraces me as well. And when I hear a final sigh of relief, telling me that he believes I am here with him, I take his hand and lead him inside, closing the door behind us.  
  
"Would you like me to draw a bath for you?" I ask, smiling as we walk to my bedchamber. "Or is there somewhere else you need to be?"  
  
"No," he says quickly, "Only here."  
  
Without speaking, I lift his heavy black coat from his shoulders and seat him in front of the hearth. "Wait here," I whisper, running my fingertips over his face. His uninjured arm lifts and he takes my hand in his, pressing my palm to his cheek again. Our eyes meet and watch each other for a long time in silence, the warmth of the fire and the adoration in our gazes causing our eyelids to droop. I lean in and softly kiss his forehead, keeping my lips pressed to his war-damaged skin for a long time. I've missed him so horribly that I can feel the pain rising in my chest again, as if my longing for him knows that he has returned and that I have no reason to long any more. I smile at him, and he graciously returns it, his face becoming alive behind the war mask of dirt. Yes, we are here, together. Again.  
  
Although I could call Naho much quicker and easier by pulling on the silk cord in my bathing room, I opt to call on her personally. I have developed a strong bond with my little maidservant, and I often try to remind her that she is my equal rather than my inferior. Instead of asking her to do something for me, I often ask her to assist me with it.  
  
She answers her door with the wide-eyed inquiring face that I have come to love. "Yes, Lady Tansho? Are you in need of my assistance?"  
  
"Yes, Naho," I answer, "Would you please help me heat water for my husband's bath? He's just returned from the battlefield and I would rather him bathe before he rests on my freshly cleaned linens."  
  
My darling little maidservant giggles happily and agrees without hesitation as she always does. With two of us working, it takes only half an hour to heat the jugs of water over the seraglio's giant hearth in the laundry room and carry them to my quarters, where we empty them carefully into my jade-tiled bath. Tasuki watches us with guilt in his tired, beautiful eyes, and I must reassure him time and again that this is no trouble for Naho and I at all. I am overwhelmed with happiness as I walk back and forth from the laundry rooms to my chambers, carrying the heavy jugs of hot water on my hips. I have my husband back, and for the first time I truly feel like a wife. But it is not because I am working to make my husband comfortable, it is because I feel such indescribable love while I am doing it. I do not realize that I have been smiling non-stop until Tasuki bursts out laughing as I am pouring the last jug of water into the bath.  
  
"What?" I demand, plopping my tired hands on my hips.  
  
"You haven't stopped smiling since you started lugging them damn things back and forth!" he exclaims happily, grinning at me. "What the hell are you so happy about?"  
  
I laugh out loud at his ridiculous question, but I opt to ignore it for the time being. I turn to my grinning little maidservant and kiss her cheek. "Thank you so much for helping me, Naho. You can return to your room now if you'd like."  
  
She bows slightly to me, then takes her leave, a happy smile still on her pretty face. After the door has closed behind her, I return my attention to Tasuki and sigh deeply.  
  
"Why the hell am I so happy?" I retort sarcastically. "I am happy because you left me a second time and came back to me a second time. That's why, my dear."  
  
He smiles gently and nods his head in agreement. "That's a damn good reason to be happy, Tan baby. Damn good. Now come here and help me up - I've got a knee giving me hell since a damn horse kicked me a couple of weeks ago."  
  
I laugh heartily, then seal my fingers over my mouth when I see him frown and narrow his eyes playfully. "Damn horse," he mumbles as I help him rise from the chair. I kiss his shoulder affectionately and lead him toward the bath. The air of my bathing room is thick with the warm steam coming off the jade-tinted water, enveloping us quickly in its midst. I leave him for a moment to scatter some bath salts in the water to help soothe his muscles, then return to his side to help his undress.  
  
"Is it your arm or your shoulder that's injured?" I inquire as I inspect the sling supporting his muscular forearm.  
  
"Shoulder," he mutters, grimacing and gritting his teeth as he removes it from the sling, "Took an arrow in the shoulder blade not long ago. It's healing good; I just keep it in the sling to keep from moving my arm too much." I slip the cloth sling off his shoulder and take a quick look at the angry red arrow notch in his shoulder blade. It has already begun to scab over, meaning it's well on its way to healing, but the scar will be a crooked and rather large one. I've never seen an arrow wound before, so I wonder for a moment if this is what the shape of it is supposed to look like.  
  
"And your chest?" I continue, lifting his uninjured arm to search for the ending of the bandage. I hear him snort in disgust, and I shoot a questioning glance at him. He pouts at me like a child.  
  
"Same damn horse that got my knee got my ribs too," he replies, every single word covered with malice. I try with all my power to hold back the laughs that my lungs are dying to spout, but I accidentally crack a smile in the process and let my retort slip.  
  
"Please don't tell me that the horse shot you with the arrow as well," I say, grinning madly as I unbind his chest.  
  
"Dammit, Tansho!" he yells, "That ain't funny and you know it!"  
  
Still grinning, I nod my head in agreement. But when I am done unrolling the bandages from his chest, I lift my eyes to his annoyed ones and let him see inside me. His face softens, and we both understand that my words meant nothing. He lifts his good arm and settles his hand on my shoulder, then lets it slip down my arm, smoothing the silk of my sleeve. He leans into me and places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth, making me inhale quickly.  
  
"The water will get cold," I whisper suddenly, making him withdraw. He sighs and rolls his eyes playfully, but still slips his hand into mine and squeezes it gently.  
  
"I'd better get cleaned up then," he replies, moving around me and toward the bath. I steal a glance as he unties his trousers and lets them fall lazily at his ankles, then smile in amusement as I remember the first time I saw him entirely naked. It wasn't until our wedding night, the night that I taught him how to swim in the ocean. Of course I had caught quick glimpses of him during the many times before that we had made love, but never had I seen him like he was that night.  
  
By the time I've returned from my daydream, Tasuki has already waded his way into the steaming water and settled comfortably in a corner, both elbows propped up happily on the edges. I chuckle lightly at the sight of him and am happy that his spirit is beginning to mend. He wouldn't be so light-hearted if it weren't.  
  
"Would you prefer lavender or sandalwood soap, my darling?" I inquire, grinning affectionately at him.  
  
"Sandalwood," he answers quickly, "Lavender reminds me of old women."  
  
I burst out laughing at his comment but give him a disapproving look as I retrieve the soap and come to kneel at his right side. "You shouldn't say such things about the elderly," I explain, "They've been around a lot longer than we have. That's why they're so wise."  
  
"That's also why they smell so damn weird sometimes. Wouldn't you smell weird if you've been around over half a century?"  
  
Once again I can't hold it back, and I erupt into fits of giggles that makes me feel ashamed after I've calmed down again. "I think that war has made you bitter, my dear," I remark.  
  
I see the jovial glint in his eyes dim dangerously to a smolder, telling me that I have said something to re-open a wound in his soul. Ashamed and taken aback that I've done such a thing, I withdraw from him slightly, my knees sliding across the smooth tiles of my bathing room floor. "No, Tan," he whispers, turning around to look me in the eyes, "Don't leave me. You didn't do anything wrong." He reaches his hand out to me and I slip mine into it very carefully. "It's just that word. I've come to hate the word 'war' - that's all."  
  
"I'm sorry," I whisper, slowly and carefully moving back towards his side. Without thinking, I grab a yellow sea sponge from a basket nearby, rub it into the damp sandalwood soap, and begin to gently bathe my husband. I begin with his shoulders, gently washing around the arrow wound and over the muscular curves of his arms and upper back. And as I move my hands, I feel him relaxing, coming to know my touch again. And suddenly I long to talk with him about the war. I want to know anything, anything at all that he is willing to tell me. I want to help heal him by being his target. I want him to use me to cleanse his soul of all the injuries the war left there.  
  
"Tell me," I suddenly whisper, my mouth close to his ear.  
  
He turns to look at me, but there is no anger or any other hard emotion in his lovely green and gold eyes. There is something that resembles hope, as if he knows I desire to help him. "About the war?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.  
  
I nod, rubbing the sea sponge gently over the large bruise on his chest and side. "Whatever you want to tell me, I'd like to know."  
  
He swivels his torso back around so that he's facing the wall again, and I see him nod slowly and gently to himself as well as to me. And then he begins to speak to me in his smooth, gently-accented, loving voice that I have memorized and stored inside my heart. His words move over his lips carefully and slowly as if he's afraid they'll frighten me. I continue bathing him as I listen, and when something interests or surprises me, I ask a question, and he is happy and quick to answer. And the days and the weeks and the months go by in his words as he talks and tells the stories of the war, and I listen with wide eyes and parted lips, enveloped. At times I am saddened, and at other times I am enthralled or horrified or shocked or sickened or encouraged. I listen closely as he expresses his guilt of accidentally killing Soi, the sole woman among the Seiryu warriors, when he was in fact aiming for Nakago; and as he relates how the priestess and Tamahome vanished, how Mistsukake was injured and how he died, the cheerful reunion that he had with Koji and the others from the mountain, how he fought next to his friends and his countrymen. I find myself longing to have been there with him, to have seen and heard and felt what he did. But when he reaches the last day of the war, the day His Highness died, he stops and stares ahead of him as if he is either horrified or fascinated by the memory. And when he turns to look at me, I discover that it is both.  
  
"I don't think I can ever forget what happened that day," he replies softly, his eyes narrowed in their gentle, thoughtful way. "It was like it wasn't even real. I don't know if it really happened, actually."  
  
"What was it?" I whisper, inquiring him as gently as my furious curiosity will allow.  
  
"His Highness had attacked Nakago, Kutou's general and one of Seiryu's warriors, and had been mortally injured and thrown from his horse by his energy explosion. Me and Chichiri and a bunch of the other soldiers saw what happened and came to his side, praying like hell to the gods that he was gonna make it. But he was so bad off -" My husband's voice is replaced by a deep, thick sigh of a painful memory, and I can see the lines of his face deepen. But I can also see his desire to continue, to share this memory with another person, and he begins to speak again. "And then we heard her. We heard Miaka's voice coming from above us, from the sky." He turns once again to stare at me with his beautiful eyes, and I see in them that they're searching for an answer.  
  
"What happened next, Tasuki?" I ask, raising my eyebrows gently.  
  
His eyes close slowly and mournfully, and his head tilts down toward the warm bath water. "She begged Hotohori not to die." My beloved husband then begins to sob with a power that could only come from the wounded soul of a warrior. "She begged him with everything she had, but he couldn't help it, goddamn it. He couldn't. And we watched him die as her voice echoed around us, begging him not to. I could sense her everywhere, and I know Chichiri and Hotohori could too, and it was killing us not to be able to see her or touch her. She's in her own world; I know it. And I want to think that she and Tamahome are safer there than here, but I don't think they are. I don't think any of us are safe yet, Tansho."  
  
His eyes are far away, and I know that a part of him is still on that field, kneeling next to his dying emperor, listening to his vanished priestess's voice echoing in the clouds. I lean close to him and touch my cheek to his hair, letting the scent of battle that still clings to it be inhaled into my lungs.  
  
"Did our emperor die listening to her voice?" I ask, not really knowing why I am asking it.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then we should be content to know that he died softly."  
  
"Yes," Tasuki whispers, slipping his hand over mine and turning his face up towards mine. "Yes, we should. He died very peacefully, as he deserved to."  
  
What has just been said between us has left an unexplainable heaviness on me, like a wet linen covering my skin. There is an uneasiness in the air around us, and yet there is also a wonderful sense of serenity that makes me close my eyes and move my body closer to my husband's. He is here, and that is all. What has been said will be worried over later, not now. Now is ours, and it cannot be taken from us.  
  
"I'm going to ask Naho to fetch you some fresh bandages and drop your clothes off at the laundry rooms," I reply, pressing my lips softly to his cheek, "Stay here and finish up. I'll be back in a moment to help get you dried off."  
  
"I'm not totally helpless, you know," he announces, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
"Just pretend you are, then."  
  
He smiles at me, his lips forming that lovely lop-sided smirk that makes warmth spread through my insides. "Alright," he agrees.  
  
I get up and make my way to the far side of my bathing room where the silk cord dangles oddly from the hole in the ceiling. I tug on it twice and in less than a minute I hear the timid knock of Naho's little knuckles on my door. I gather my husband's trousers, overcoat, and boots and go to open the door for her. When I nudge open my door with my hip, I am surprised to see that the sun has already set over the western wall of the seraglio. I have forgotten that night comes much quicker in winter than in summer. Naho stands in front of me, her petite frame outlined by the night, a soft smile on her youthful face.  
  
"My lady?" she replies, "You called for me?"  
  
"Yes, Naho," I reply, "Could you please run some errands for me? I need you to drop these off at the laundry quarters to have them washed. Tell the chamber maids that I also need a fresh new shirt for my husband," I reply, carefully transferring Tasuki's clothing from my arms to my handmaid's. She gathers them safely to her chest. "And when you have dropped them off, could you please go to the physician's quarters and fetch some fresh bandages for Master Tasuki, as well as something for his bruises and arrow wound? I'm sure the physicians will give you what they think is best."  
  
"Of course, my lady," he answers happily, "I'll be back as soon as possible." She bows and gives me one of her never-ending smiles before scurrying off in the direction of the laundry rooms, the bundle of clothing wrapped securely in her arms.  
  
I stand on my threshold for quite a long time after she's gone, simply gazing up into the black sky. The stars are bright tonight, brought to life by the deepness of the dark winter night. Any moment now I expect to hear the lady priestess's cheerful voice drift down from the darkness above me, but it doesn't. I have no doubt in my mind that Miaka spoke to Hotohori as he lay dying on the battlefield. And I have no doubt that everyone that was present there heard her voice coming from the sky. This world is no longer the normal one that I lived in before I fell in love with a warrior of Suzaku. I am not shocked or unbelieving of anything now that I have known Tasuki.  
  
I smile happily to myself. My life has altered so wonderfully since I have known that man. He has brought so many things to me. I can only hope that I have brought him the same amount in return. In only a few more months, I will have known him nearly a year now. How drastically one's life can transform within a year. How beautiful it can become.  
  
A/N: Hey there all. I hope life's treating you well (mine's sure giving me a run for my money ^_^) But all's well. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. I wrote it about a month before Christmas, during a very difficult time in my life, and I think that I included many things within this chapter that acted as a sort of therapy for me. My writing this chapter helped me a lot, and I must say that it's one that's very special to me (partially also because it's the one where Tansho learns of Hotohori's death and Tasuki returns.)  
  
See you guys later!  
Aama 


	58. As We Should Be

A/N: Hello there!! I bet you guys have been wondering where the hell I've been, huh? Well, the A/N at the end of the chapter will explain my long absence if you're wondering. I hope you like this chapter. I've always thought it was one of the most romantic that once again shows the depth of Tansho and Tasuki's relationship and the love they have for each other. Make sure to leave some reviews on how you like it! ^_^  
  
Chapter 58  
As We Should Be  
  
I return to my bathing room to see my poor husband struggling to stand, his injured arm wrapped around his bruised chest, his good arm bracing his weight on the side of the bath. I sigh in exasperation and hurry to his side, scolding him for not calling for me to help.  
  
"I ain't that bad off," he protests as I kick my slippers off and wade into the luke-warm water to help him. I bend down, slip his good arm over my shoulders, and gently assist him as he rises from the jade-tiled bath. "It just hurts a little, that's all," he insists. I pay no attention to him, only keep my side pressed to his so that he doesn't slip and injure himself further on the hard surface of the bathing room floor. I don't even notice that one entire side of my silk outer robe is now soaking wet from being pressed to him. I leave him standing for a moment as I go to fetch a towel, then briskly wrap it around his shoulders to help him dry off.  
  
I smile at him as I rub his arms and chest gently, then tie the towel around his waist, my fingertips lingering on his abdomen for a long moment afterward. With his hurt arm curled tight to his side, he bends and places a soft kiss on my brow. "What am I supposed to wear until tomorrow?" he breathes into my ear, his tantalizing warm breath heating my skin.  
  
"Wait here," I respond, trying to seem indifferent to his seductiveness.  
  
I turn quickly and make my way across the bathing room and into my sleeping quarters, where I open my wardrobe and select one of my many sleeping gowns. It will have to do until morning. I return with it in hand, and am instantly greeted with a hesitant expression on my darling husband's handsome face.  
  
"That ain't for me, is it?"  
  
"Well, I can't have you running around in my room naked in the winter time. You're already hurt; I don't want you catching a cold," I answer, motioning for him to turn around so that I can slip the robe over his shoulders. He gives me an obviously irritated look, but I ignore it and gently pull the gown up his arms. The hem barely falls past his knees, but for some reason, it suits him. When I run my hands over his back and shoulders, smoothing the black satin over his skin, I am intrigued to find that the muscles there have altered somewhat. They have become thicker and firmer from the many weeks and months of wielding a sword in battle. Unconsciously, my palms linger on Tasuki's shoulder, pressing gently into his skin as I learn the contours of his new shapes. He notices and turns around slowly to face me, my hands sliding from his back as he does so. His uninjured arm curls around my waist, bringing our bodies closer to each other. I am more than happy to give in to his soft embrace, and I lean into him carefully, not wanting to upset his bad arm. But his arm tightens unexpectedly and I am suddenly pressed into his chest, my chin pushed up by the force of his pull so that my face is angled upwards toward his. My eyes look inside of his gingerly, wondering, curious, and loving, wanting to talk to him so badly. The time for words has passed, but it will come again soon. Now it is time to catch up on the months that we have missed being together.  
  
He smiles down at me, his soft emerald and golden eyes glowing in the fire light that leaks in from my sleeping quarters. "Are you sleepy?" he asks, sliding his hand from my waist to my spine, his fingertips pressing gently into me.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Wanna go to bed anyways?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He lowers his face closer to mine and brushes my cheeks with his lips, making my arms unable to continue hanging lifeless at my sides. My hands awaken and reach out for him, wrapping securely around his waist and pulling his hips toward mine suggestively. He laughs deep in his throat, more like a heavy breath, and I grab handfuls of the black satin sleeping robe in response, keeping him pressed to me.  
  
We walk slowly out of the steam-filled air of the bathing room and towards the bed chamber, warm from the strong fire burning in the hearth. He follows after me, his hand in mine, and just as we reach our bed, Naho's demure little knock sounds at my door. Reluctantly, I release my husband's hand and leave him by the bed to answer the door. His eyes follow me as if they're afraid I'm running away.  
  
Naho beams as I open the door, her small hands full of rolls of thick, white gauze and a small ceramic bottle. "For Master Tasuki, my lady," she replies shyly, "The physician said to rub the ointment directly on the bruises and wounds and bandage immediately before it dries. He should feel much better by morning. And Master Tasuki's clothing will be ready by morning as well, my lady"  
  
I take the burden from my darling little handmaiden and lean over to kiss her cheek. "Thank you, Naho. You may return to your room now if you'd like." She bows slightly to me, and as she returns to her rooms I see her tiny hand come up to cradle her cheek, pressing against the spot where I kissed her. My dear little Naho. How she has grown on me in these last few months.  
  
I push the door closed with my hip, my best tool when my arms are preoccupied, and saunter back to my bed where Tasuki sits contentedly, a drunken-looking smile spread over his face.  
  
"What are you smiling about?" I inquire happily as I place the bandages and ointment bottle next to him.  
  
"It feels good just to sit on something other than the ground, a log, or a horse," he answers, his voice lazy, his eyelids drooping happily. "Real damn good."  
  
I smile in sympathy, but say nothing. Instead, I turn my attention to the gauze and ointment waiting to be applied to my injured husband. "Slip out of the sleeves," I instruct him, picking up the little jar of ointment and inspecting it. I open the lid to smell it and find that it's scent is actually quite nice – like herbs mixed with the rain. Sweet and thick, but light and airy as well. Tasuki does as I ask and undresses from the waist up, revealing the dark bruises that are spread across one side of his chest and side, the ribs that obviously sustained the injury. I touch him gently with my fingertips, prodding softly to check for any broken ribs. I think I detect a cracked one, but none have broken noticeably; most are just severely bruised. He grunts and moans as I rub the sweet ointment into his discolored skin, but sighs when I begin caressing it gently beneath my palm to counterattack the brisk rubbing. I then carefully bind his chest with the thick gauze, wrapping it around his chest and under his arms, and then over his injured shoulder to protect the arrow wound. When I'm done with that, I fashion a new sling from the remaining bandages and situate his arm in it so that it's easier to keep immobile.  
  
After putting away the remaining bandages and ointment and letting the dirty water out of the bath, I turn down the covers of my bed and help my husband climb in. He's still naked from the waist up, but the thick gauze hides his chest and one shoulder from my view, as well as the harsh bruises beneath them. He eases onto his back and I slip in beside him, pressing myself gently to his side. With his injured arm resting across his stomach, he wraps his good arm around my shoulders and holds me to him, pulling me closer.  
  
We lie silent and motionless for a long time, simply taking comfort in the soothing warmth of the burning hearth and in each other. I listen to his breathing, watching the rise and fall of his bandaged chest. He holds my hand in his, mindlessly caressing my knuckles with his thumb. He breaks the warm silence unexpectedly, but I'm not startled at all by the sound of his voice. He could shout in my ear without warning and I think I would still crack a smile of happiness just to hear his voice.  
  
"His Highness's funeral is tomorrow," he reveals, turning to look at me. "Before he's placed in his tomb, Lady Hoki has asked that me and Chichiri come to privately pay our last respects to him – I guess that's what you would call it." His eyes glow beautifully in the light of the fire, but they are dark and clouded, making his grief obvious. I have always loved him the most when he is this way – trusting me entirely with his soul. "I would like you to come with me, Tan," he continues, those deep-set, sorrowful eyes still watching me closely. I shift higher on the bed so that my head rests closer to his on the pillows, and I press my lips to his cheek.  
  
"Of course," I whisper, smiling gently.  
  
"It feels like there's so much we haven't told each other," Tasuki suddenly replies, his eyebrows narrowing. "It feels so strange, kinda like rain hanging in the air that won't come down." He sighs and moves his head so that our foreheads are pressed together. "I guess it's 'cause we've spent so much time apart, and I told you everything so quickly. What's been going on here, by the way? Anything interesting?"  
  
My mind searches within itself, looking for memories, but the ones I find seem small and minuscule compared to the ones my husband has shared with me. I spent my days in the company of the courtesans, lounging around the seraglio like a lazy cat, and every now and then I'd venture into the city to visit Asako and Mayonaka or shop in the markets. These months have been the most peaceful and relaxing times of my life up until now, and yet they've also been the most boring and insignificant in many ways. During my days in the harem, I've never felt so safe and alive and free, and yet I've never felt so alone and sad and bored.  
  
"Nothing really interesting," I admit, "It's been like one, long wonderful vacation." I then look him straight in his unearthly eyes and I smile broadly. "I can't wait to go home."  
  
When Tasuki hears this, I see every contour and angle of his beautiful face ignite in happiness. "The mountain?" he whispers. I nod and flip over onto my side so that I can press myself closer to him.  
  
"Yes, the mountain," I reply. "I should tell you something that I've decided. And I've only just decided it right this moment."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I've decided that I don't want to stop in my town or try to find my family. I want to go with you straight to Reikaku."  
  
He gives me a sharp, worried look. "Tan, are you sure? You really don't want to see them?"  
  
"It's not that I don't want to see them," I correct him quickly, "It's just that I don't know what good my showing up would do. Of course I would love to see them and see how they're doing, but I don't want to hurt myself in the process. They could all be gone for all I know, and what would that do to me if I went looking for them only to find out that they moved away – or worse – if they're dead? I don't want to hurt myself anymore, Tasuki. I just want to be happy. And I think I'll be happy not knowing where they are, what they're doing, and if they're well."  
  
His hand tightens around mine as he nods his head slowly and steadily. "Ok, then," he replies softly, "We'll leave as soon as possible – and go straight to the mountain. No stops."  
  
I only smile as thanks for his understanding and shift towards to edge of the bed, making him release my hand. "Where're you goin'?" he asks, trying to sit up but unable to without wincing. He gives up and flops back down.  
  
"No where," I assure him, "I just need to change into a sleeping robe so that I don't wrinkle this gown I'm wearing." Satisfied that I'm not trying to run away, he relaxes back into the softness of my bed and sighs deeply.  
  
"I may be bruised up, but it's been a damn long time since I felt this good," he remarks happily, a smirk on his tired face. "I prayed every day to Suzaku to let me survive this damn war if only long enough to take you to Mount Reikaku and let you see it again, like it was when you were a little girl." As I slip off the outer and under robes of the gown I watch his eyes follow my movements, then drift away into the distance as if he can see Reikaku there. I slip on a simple blue satin sleeping robe and climb back into bed with my husband. He promptly re-wraps his uninjured arm around me and pulls me close, enveloping me in the warmth of his skin and his body.  
  
I think for a long time about the mountain, and about what my life might be like there with Tasuki and Koji and the other bandits. Will I be accepted by them? Will they approve of their boss having a wife, the only woman in the fortress? I would be more than happy to become their maid if it would win them over. I've never minded cooking or cleaning or washing clothes. That could be my job – to take care of everyone. I sure as hell don't plan on spending my days lounging around the fortress like I did in the seraglio, doing absolutely nothing and expecting to be happy. I plan on working my ass off, not just for them, but for myself as well. It's time that I work my hands for the sake of myself and those that I love -- like Asako is doing. It's time that I begin to truly live my life as I know it should be lived.  
  
But there is this weight pressing on the corners of my heart, trying to tell me something, trying to make me remember something, but I cannot. I hear Tasuki's voice in the distance, unknowing of the sudden turmoil inside my mind, but I am lost in my thoughts. Something is there, just beyond my reach, something I know I must tell him. I know how important it is. And I know that whatever it is, I have somehow managed to lock it away inside my heart. I know it hurt me. I know it damaged my spirit. But what was it? What happened to me?  
  
Tasuki takes notice of my odd behavior. I feel his eyes on me, watching me, worrying over me, trying to figure out what's wrong with me.  
  
"Tan," he says, his voice unsure, "Tansho, what's wrong?"  
  
I feel his hands on my arms, trying to calm me. I wish I could tell him, but I myself don't remember. He holds me for a long time, whispering to me as I begin to tremble gently in his embrace, asking me to tell him what's wrong. And I try over and over to clear my thoughts and open my memory, but there is nothing there. Does it have something to do with my childhood, or with the brothel perhaps?  
  
And then, I remember. I lay still in my husband's arms and return to that night that was months ago but still so unfairly close to me. There was blood on my fingers Blood on the linens. On my thighs. On my night gown. Everywhere and all around me. I moan in despair and press my eyelids closed, turning in Tasuki's embrace, burying myself in his bandaged chest to try to escape the vision of me in my blood-soaked linens. My scream echoes through my head as clearly as the night I released it.  
  
No, I beg. No, not now. Not when I'm so close to being happy. Not when everything is over and everything is ready to return to the place it should be. Don't come back to me now, just when Tasuki's come back to me safely.  
  
But no matter how hard I beg and fight, it is still undeniably here in my mind again, knowing that it is time to be told. Now even more concerned with my strange behavior, Tasuki shifts closer to me and studies me for a moment.  
  
"What's wrong, Tansho?" his softly accented voice whispers, his words so close to my ear.  
  
I remain silent for a long time, longer than I should, before I find the courage to begin. Yes, it is time. It must be said. It is very possible to keep it hidden safely in the corners of my mind and heart for years to come, but I simply cannot do that. My soul was far too wounded by what happened, and I love my husband far too much to keep from him what he has a right to know about. He is not the kind to blame me, so I cannot understand my anxiety and my trembling hands. He would never blame me or curse me or be angry with me at all. Upset. Yes, of course. Sad. Yes, of course. But I expect these things. I do not, however, expect what he does.  
  
"There's something that I need to tell you about," I begin timidly, angling my face toward his so that the deep gentleness of his eyes can comfort me. "Something happened after you left for Hokkan, something that wounded me deeply and left a scar that I don't think will ever heal completely." I feel my throat begin to constrict, but I force my way through it, determined. But I never get a chance to continue, because his eyes are gazing at me so softly, so carefully, and so mournfully that they halt my words completely, and suddenly he is speaking instead of me.  
  
"I know, Tansho," he says, his voice a deep sorrowful whisper that tightens my chest until I can barely breathe.  
  
"You know – what?" I manage to choke out in response, unconsciously moving even closer to him as if it could keep him from pushing me away, or keep me from running away.  
  
"I know that you had a miscarriage not long after I left."  
  
A soft moan spills from my mouth unexpectedly, and I don't have time to try to conceal it and keep myself composed. My eyes drift closed and I bury my face in the warm shelter of my palms. My shoulders begin to tremble and suddenly I am crying so hard and so deep that my sobs echo like thunder off the walls and crash back into me mercilessly. I try to shift my body away from my husband's, but he grabs me forcefully and pulls me back to him, using both arms to curl my body tightly into his. He holds me as if he must restrain me from injuring myself, and never before in my life have I ever felt so safe. And as I weep and sob and cry endlessly, Tasuki cradles me and whispers to me all the while.  
  
"Tansho," he says, his voice purposefully loud so that I can hear him all the way into my soul. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to be with you when you needed me. You must understand that it wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault. It was meant to happen, so it did. And I'm so sorry." He keeps his arms wrapped around me and whispers the words again and again in my ear.  
  
"How did you find out?" I finally manage to mutter into his naked shoulder.  
  
"Asako told me."  
  
My eyes rise to look into his. Asako? So it was her who found me and cleaned me and put me back to bed? I had always thought it was Mayonaka who found me in my room, unconscious and bleeding. All along, it was Asako, and she never told me?  
  
"Asako," I whisper, closing my eyes. I thank her silently for loving me and caring for me so much. My dear second mother, my kindred soul. I love her more now that ever before.  
  
I then become interested. When did they ever talk long enough in private for her to tell him something like this? I ask him this, and he only smiles gently at me.  
  
"She found time," is his simple response.  
  
His fingers run gently over my face, wiping away the streams of tears and bringing back the color to my face. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then to my lips, and I smile in response. He accepts it, and he understands it, and he doesn't blame me. He is my husband, and I am his wife, and there are no more secrets left to tell. We know all and we are as we should be.  
  
I mold myself deeper into my beloved's body, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his face even closer. My lips slide across his, then press delicately into them, coaxing them to life. His fingers drift upward to curl themselves into my hair, keeping me close to him as our mouths slide and press and open for each other peacefully and contentedly. And soon we are lost in each other again, all memories of the past returned to the corners of our hearts and minds. And all that remains in this world is us.  
  
A/N: Hey there, all!! I know you probably thought I was dead since it's been, like, a damn month or something since my last update. But, no, I'm alive! ^_^ I've just been going through some interesting times in my life and getting used to new things (I've moved out of my house and into the campus dorms, which has brought on quite a lot of changes that I rather like ^_^) But anyways, I just want to let you all know how thankful I am for your reviews. I'd love to reply to them, but I'm kinda in a hurry, so I promise to do it next time, OK? Thanks again for all the reviews. Like always, they encourage me so much, so thanks with all my heart! Luv ya!  
  
Aama 


	59. The Way It Must Be

A/N: Hello there! I'm back once again (and immensely sorry for the up- date wait once again...but college is a bitch sometimes, you know ^_^) Anyways, this is an oddly clean chapter (for me at least). No cussing or graphic loving or anything like that. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Chapter 59  
The Way It Must Be  
  
Our night is long and dark and filled with warmth. We make love tenderly and carefully since my husband's injuries hinder him somewhat, but our slow, gentle pace makes it all the more pleasurable. We lose ourselves in each other again and again, drifting off to sleep for a few hours only to reawaken with the sound of the other's sigh or the touch of their bare skin, and we make love again. With all thoughts of the mournful day to come banished from our minds, we allow ourselves to become bewitched with each other and find ourselves pretending that nothing else exists in this world but us. We forget the war. We forget the priestess and the warriors that are lost and those that are still alive. We forget the funeral that we will attend tomorrow. We forget even though pieces of our hearts know that it is selfish to do so.  
  
I lie motionless in Tasuki's arms after we have arrived to the point of exhaustion, and I listen contentedly as he drifts into a thick sleep, his eyelids weighed down, his breathing deep, his body completely still beside me. I press my hand over his heart for a moment and feel the soft thump against my palm. Yes, this is him. He is here. He has left me and returned to me so many times that checking the beat of his heart has become the only way I can be sure he is really here.  
  
I do not notice that hours have gone by, for I must have fallen asleep at some point after watching my husband fall asleep. The sun wakes me up, its bright golden sheen shining in front of my eyelids, coaxing them open. The sky outside my window is thick with fog, tinted a lovely shade of golden from the rising sun. I sigh deeply and shift to see if Tasuki is awake yet. He isn't. His bound chest still rises and falls at an even pace and the sound of his breath is still deep, accented softly every now and then by a snore, making me smile. I slip away from him, very careful not to disturb him, and sit up in my canopied bed to think for a moment about the night before. So many things said. So many things revealed.  
  
I grin mischievously. And so much lovemaking as well – far more than I ever thought a man with bruised ribs and an arrow wound could do. I cast a glance over my naked shoulder to see my husband lying flat on his back, contend in the obliviousness of sleep, his hand unconsciously caressing the place beside him where I once rested.  
  
What will happen now? His Highness's funeral is today, of course. And I dread it like I would dread my own funeral. I do not know if I can endure seeing his body, and I have no idea in hell how the Lady Empress can endure it. Gods, how I long to see her, talk with her, hold her, comfort her. She is not just my empress any longer – she is my friend. And I want her to know how I grieve for her; I want her to know that I sympathize deeply with her even though it is she who has lost her husband and not me. It could have been me, though. It very well could have been me.  
  
But it wasn't. My eyes gaze at my beloved again, studying the contours of his naked body resting peacefully on my bed. Will my life truly begin now that he is here again and his duty to his priestess and his county has been fulfilled? Will we leave for the mountain soon? Will the other women be alright if they are left here in the harem? Will we be able to visit each other? And what about Konan? Now that our beloved emperor is dead and our heir still has yet to be born, what will become of us?  
  
I have to force myself to stop thinking. No more questions that cannot be answered. No more. I sigh heavily and rise from my bed to dress. I select a plain white under robe, a cream-colored over robe, and a white girdle and sash to wear to pay my last respects to my dear friend Hotohori, the great emperor of Konan. I brush my hair out and do nothing else to it; it would be inappropriate to dress or decorate my hair extravagantly for a funeral. But because white is the color of mourning, I gather the top portion of my dark brown hair, mold it into a modest chignon, and slip a simple pearl hair pin into its base to accentuate my all-white apparel.  
  
Just when I decide it's time to wake Tasuki, I hear a soft knock at my door and hurry to answer it. One of the chamber maids stands on my threshold, Tasuki's freshly cleaned clothes folded neatly in her arms. I thank her quietly, not wanting to wake my still-sleeping husband, and close the door as she turns to leave. But the sun has roused him for me, and by the time I've place his clothes at the foot of the bed, he is stirring and yawning happily.  
  
"Good morning," he replies, his voice still thick and slurred from sleep. He smiles and sits up slowly, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the bed.  
  
"Good morning, my darling," I answer happily, padding over to him on my bare feet and taking his face in my hands. I place a soft kiss of his cheek, then run my fingers through his unruly hair. "Your clean clothes are here."  
  
He nods and makes a movement as if to stand. Still wary of his injuries, he braces himself as if the simple action of standing will send a lightning bolt of pain through his body. But when his feet are firmly planted on the ground, he gives me a surprised look and raises his eyebrows.  
  
"What is it?" I inquire, worry in my voice.  
  
He doesn't answer, only stretches his arms high above his head. He then rotates his injured arm and bends at the waist, then to the side.  
  
"What's wrong?" I ask again, the tone of my voice rising.  
  
"Huh!" he remarks happily, "There ain't a damn thing wrong, Tan! It feels like that goddamn horse never even brushed against me much less kicked the hell outta me!" He grins and begins to unwind the bandages that bind his chest and shoulder. He shrugs his arm out of the sling, too. The bruises are still quite evident on his chest and side, but the color of them is much less severe. They truly seem to have half-healed over night. "Would ya look at that!" he comments, prodding gently at his injuries, testing them for pain. He pokes too hard and grimaces slightly, making him pull his hand away. "Maybe we should put some more of that herb stuff on and wrap me up for one more day," he says to me, "Just to be sure."  
  
I smile in response and hurry to fetch the balm and the left-over bandages from the night before.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************************  
  
We walk hand in hand now through the seraglio, slowing making our way toward His Highness's chambers where we will pay our last respects to him. Still a bit too sore to pull his shirt over his head without groaning in pain, Tasuki opted to simply drape his coat over his naked shoulders. His injured arm rests comfortably in the sling while the other is pressed close to mine, our fingers entwined.  
  
We are silent for a long time, but then my husband speaks up, his voice momentarily slipping back into its normal cheerful tones that instantly lift my spirits. "I have something to tell you," he says, grinning down at me as we stroll slowly into another of the palace's courtyards. Interested, I lift my eyebrows in response. "I meant to tell you sometime last night, but we were a little too busy." We both smile, knowing what he is referring to, and he continues. "I think that Koji's taken a liking to your friend Koi," he replies, "I think he's taken a big liking."  
  
Surprised, I turn to look at him and narrow my eyes. "A liking?" I repeat, "As in a friendly liking, or –"  
  
"Yep," he interrupts, "The other kind of liking. And believe me, Tan, I can tell."  
  
Although I'm somewhat shocked by this sudden revelation, it would be a lie to say I'm not somewhat pleased as well. "How can you tell?"  
  
"He couldn't stop talking about her! The moment the two of you left that day to go back to the harem, he just couldn't shut up." Tasuki grins at the memory. "How someone can get all lovesick that soon is beyond me!"  
  
"You mean to tell me that Koji has begun to fall in love with Koi? They hardly know each other! They met once, and even then they barely spoke more than a few sentences," I say.  
  
"Sounds like another couple, doesn't it, Tansho?" Tasuki quickly retorts, turning his head to peer down at me as if reprimanding me. Only when I see the soft but serious look in his eyes do I realize that he's speaking of us. "We had one real conversation before we slept together, if my memory is correct. And it didn't take us long after to realize we were in love."  
  
I don't think I can ever recall hearing his voice sound so serious. I gaze at him for a long moment, wondering why he speaks of this so reverently. Yes, I remember. For a while, I thought I was a goddamn fool for what I was daring to do, but then I realized that it was because I was experiencing real love for the first time since I lost my mother and the rest of my family. I could not procrastinate acting on that love; I could not afford it. I had to seize it and make it mine before it vanished – just like my happy childhood did. But what of Koji and Koi? Hearing from Tasuki that his friend has begun to fall in love with my friend is both overwhelmingly joyful, and yet strangely unbelievable. Does Koi feel the same as Koji does? If so, why did she never tell me? Why would she keep it a secret?  
  
"Let's give them some time," Tasuki continues, "Koji's coming in about a week to ride back with us to the mountain. He says that it'll be safer for you if there's two guys riding with you. But I think he wants to come just to see Koi again. You know, before we set off for the mountain, they might realize they were meant for each other and Koi could be coming back with us."  
  
When I hear this, my heart leaps inside my rib cage at the thought of my dearest friend joining me in my new home. "You think?" I answer hopefully.  
  
"Well, if the feeling's mutual on Koi's part, then sure! Why not?"  
  
My husband smiles happily down at me, and we walk on as if simply strolling together on a beautiful winter morning, not on our ways to a funeral. I smile in return, and happiness suddenly blossoms inside of me on this sorrowful day. I feel guilty and thankful at the same time that I am able to feel joy on a day of mourning, but I don't allow my mind to dwell on this. At this point in time, I cannot allow it.  
  
We reach the emperor's chambers by the time the golden sky has cleared of fog and the sun is beaming down warmly upon our bodies. But the interior of His Highness's chambers has the chill of death and sadness and mourning clinging to the air, hanging heavily above our heads and above the covered body of Hotohori. Tasuki grips my hand tighter as we walk slowly toward the bed where his emperor and fellow warrior lies, his body still, his eyes closed as if sleeping silently. Chichiri stands motionless at the emperor's left; Lady Hoki stands at his right, her lovely face shadowed by her grief, but her stature still as regal and elegant as always. One of His Highness's many faithful advisors welcomes us solemnly, motioning with his hand for Tasuki to stand next to Chichiri, his companion warrior. I settle at my husband's side, my fingers clinging to his.  
  
Hotohori has not lost his masculine beauty. He lies in his bed, his crimson coverlets pulled up close to his neck, his head supported by plush pillows, his face serene as if he had died there and not in the middle of a battlefield. For a long moment all of us who are present are silent. I can tell that we are all studying our beloved emperor, trying to burn his image into our minds before his body is entombed. We all know that in a few more hours His Highness will forever be sealed in his crypt, his body forever kept safe. The thought goes beyond me. I cannot image my emperor and my friend locked into a tomb, never to emerge again. I try, but I cannot. So I simply stand still and listen as His Highness's head advisor speaks reverently of him, his aged, wise voice ringing loud with praise and sorrow. He speaks of his sullen, empty childhood and how the coming of the Priestess seemed to bring him to life again, and I find myself thinking of Lady Tsuya, wondering if this old man knew of the joy she brought into his beloved emperor's life.  
  
Lady Hoki stares blankly, her vivid purple eyes so alive and yet so dead. Her hands are crossed demurely over her rounded belly, and I see her press her delicate fingers down into her skin, feeling for the kicking of her child. Smiles flicker across her face every now and then, and I smile because I know why she's smiling. Her eyes rise, and they meet mine in a gentle, smooth motion. She is mourning deeply and harshly. Her eyes call out for help, for comfort; and although I know I can give her this, I also know that it could never be enough. I sense something wrong in her. She will mourn for a long time -- for far too long -- and only something much like a miracle will be able to bring her out of it.  
  
I am hurled from my thoughts by a startling sound. My breath leaves me and I grip my husband's hand as a voice arises from the room, comes down upon us from the sky, crashes into us from all sides. It calls the names of Chichiri and my husband over and over, pleading with them to hear it and respond to it. It is loud but strangely soft as well. It is no longer a startling shout; it had softened to a drifting wind, swirling around us like fog. All of us that are gathered around His Highness's bed lift our eyes to the ceiling of the bed-chamber, searching for the source of the voice. It has no body. It is coming from the air.  
  
"Tasuki! Chichiri! Can you hear me?! My name is Keisuke. I'm Miaka's brother!"  
  
My eyes dart to my husband's, where they linger in shock for several long moments. I watch as his eyes leave mine to connect with Chichiri's, both of their faces showing their amazement and confusion. I see them both fighting to respond, and finally Tasuki manages to lift his face to the ceiling and answer the voice calling to us.  
  
"Keisuke, is Miaka there with you? Is she OK?" he calls out, his voice burdened with confusion and disbelief. His eyes roam across the ceiling as if the young man he's speaking to could be found there somewhere.  
  
"No," the voice replies desperately. "Please save my sister. Nakago's come to our world. He has Miaka and Yui cornered, and I think he might kill them!"  
  
"Nakago's there?" Chichiri cries, obviously both surprised and concerned.  
  
"Yes. Please – you're the only ones who can help her! Find her backpack – that big bag that she brought with her from her world. Concentrate hard on coming into this world. Please hurry!"  
  
And then it is silent. We are all left standing in shock, our eyes unfocused, our hearts beating wildly, our minds racing. Out of the corner of my eye I see Chichiri turn to face Tasuki, his masked face solemn and flustered, but rigid. Tasuki glances at the floor, his fingers raking back through his fiery hair. I hear him sigh and return his companion's look, his eyes knowing. Chichiri nods his head slowly, and Tasuki answers with another nod. They turn to face Empress Hoki, who only smiles weakly and bows low to the ground, far lower than she should, giving them permission to leave, thanking them for respecting her husband with their presence, and wishing them luck for what they are about to do all in this graceful, simple motion. When she has righter herself, Chichiri and Tasuki bow in unison and take their leave.  
  
My husband's hand suddenly slips into mine, and I find myself staring into his eyes. I am confused and astounded, but when he looks down and into me I clench his hand tighter and silently follow him out of the emperor's bedchambers and into the sun. We walk hand-in-hand behind Chichiri, following him toward the room that the Priestess stayed in during her last visit to the palace. Our pace is fast and even-paced, and although we hurry just as Miaka's brother asked us to, we do not rush. For several minutes I cannot understand why there is no words between my husband and I. Shouldn't there be? Shouldn't we be saying goodbye again? I glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, staring at me, trying to keep me with him. He doesn't want to let go of me. His desire to protect his Priestess and his desire to be with his wife has finally begun to battle inside his heart. I can feel it in the heat of his hand. There is rage and guilt and concern and passion beneath his skin.  
  
I do not realize that we are standing outside the door of the Priestess's old room until we have stopped walking. Chichiri turns around and smiles faintly at Tasuki and I, and I know that he is telling us to speak to each other for as long as we possibly can. He is telling us that we must part again, but that it's alright that neither of us want to. He opens the door to the bedroom and goes inside, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Tansho."  
  
He has always said my name in a way that makes me love him deeper and fiercer each time he speaks it. And it is times like this that I hate him for that.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says softly, his warm hands wrapping around mine.  
  
I lift my eyes and stare at him, partially moved, partially angry. "For what?" I ask bluntly.  
  
"For this. When I came back after the war, I never meant to leave again. Never. And now I am, and I'm sorry."  
  
"You shouldn't be sorry, Tasuki," I answer, my voice suddenly choked with the beginning of tears. I scream at myself inside my head not to cry. No more crying. No more. I have cried enough, and I will not do it any more. "You shouldn't be sorry for doing what is needed to save your priestess." I look hard into his eyes and I force him to hear my words and all that they have to say. "You were her friend before you were my lover. You were her warrior before you were my husband. You are bound to me by your love and your heart, but you are bound to her by Fate. You were born to serve her. If you must leave me to go to her, then so be it – because that is the way it must be. That is the way it was meant to be." I pull him into me, embracing him so passionately that I fear I may not survive letting him go. I press him to me so that I can feel his heart beating together with mine. If I lose him, then he is lost. I cannot interfere where I do not belong. I can only hope and pray, and if those fail me, then I can remember. I have my memories. My husband may never come back, but my memories of him can never leave.  
  
"Do not be sorry," I whisper into his ear, "Be grateful. You were chosen long ago to serve a great woman."  
  
"And I was chosen to love a great woman as well," he answers, his voice caressing my ear and bringing me dangerously close to tears.  
  
"Tasuki," Chichiri replies softly, "I found it." We break apart slowly to turn and look at the brown bag Chichiri grasps in his hand, not really knowing what to do next. Tasuki entwines his fingers with mine, and we follow Chichiri blindly into the room, uncertain of what will happen, but sure of what must be done.  
  
A/N: Hey there again! It's been forever since I answered some reviews, so I thought I'd take the time to do that.  
  
Nuriko's Singer: No, I don't think it's obsessive that you read my entire fic over the course of two days – it's pretty damn impressive if you sk me! ^_^ Thanks so much for all the nice compliments, they really made my day (especially the one about my lemons – it's always good to know that my randy imagination is put to good use ^_^) As for a little baby Tasuki or Tansho – you'll have to wait and see!  
  
Touki Yume: Thanks for your compliment of "the confession". That was such a difficult scene to write! It took me months to decide where to place it and what should be said between Tasuki and Tansho (originally, it was set while they were swimming together in the ocean). And yes, I love Asako's character as well. In the beginning, I tried my best to give all four of the woman equal roles in the story and in Tansho's life, but I knew early on that Asako was going to be different.  
  
Mystic Chibi: Thanks so much for the sweet compliments!!!  
  
Methodic madness: Thanks for your compliments on "the confession" scene as well, an also for your thoughts on Tansho's decision to not look for her family (yet another extremely difficult part of the plot to write). Oh, and also for what you said about her characterization in relation to prostitute stereotypes (very interesting...) And thanks for understanding my long updates. ^_^ You're a Georgian, too, huh? How cool!!! No, I wouldn't mind at all telling your where I'm from – I'm from Athens!  
  
Chibi-face: Thanks a bunch for the compliments!! And, yeah, sorry for the long updates.  
  
Railynn: Yet another thanks!!! ^_^  
  
Ame: Just keep reading, hon! All your question will be answered in the later chapters!!  
  
Thanks again to everyone!! You keep me motivated and inspired, and I couldn't keep writing this story without your support!! Love you all!  
  
Aama 


	60. These Days That Pass

Chapter 60  
These Days That Pass  
  
I stand here alone now, my eyes still blinded by the stunning crimson glow that had erupted from the air like fire. It had spread around the room, moving like fog, glistening and shimmering, enveloping Chichiri and Tasuki within itself. And then they were gone. And now I am left standing here, my eyes still blind, my mind still numb and spinning, remembering the last words that had passed between my husband and I as he unwound the bandages from his injured torso and pulled on the cotton undershirt I had fetched from my chambers.  
  
"I don't know how long I'll be gone," he had said, and I had both loved and hated him for telling me this. Perhaps it will be best if I not know when to expect him back, so that I can't worry once the expected day has passed. But if I knew when to expect him, maybe it would strengthen my hope.  
  
"I once heard His Highness mention that a single day in Miaka's world is like an entire month here," Chichiri offered, though the sound of his voice made it obvious that he wasn't quite sure whether this information would help or hurt Tasuki and I. Both of us had closed our eyes in dread, and Chichiri had looked as if he had the weight of hell on his shoulders. I smiled warmly at him to tell him I knew he meant no harm.  
  
And then I had grabbed my husband, pulling him to me to hold. I wanted to try to memorize him quickly, to remember the way his freshly washed shirt smelled against my cheek, to remember the pressure of his hands on my trembling shoulders. These are the things I just got back. These are the things I am losing once again.  
  
He had said that he loved me now more than ever, though he didn't explain why. I don't think he had an explanation. He just felt it, and said what he felt – just as he always had done. I told him that I loved him as well, and that I will do so forever. Our parting was brief and as painless as possible. I am glad for this, but now I am beginning to hurt.  
  
I had watched him shrug the strange brown bag on his shoulders and take his place next to Chichiri. The monk closed his eyes and narrowed his brow in concentration, his palm resting firmly on his comrade's shoulder. Tasuki had looked at me one last time, his gaze pure and strong, and closed his eyes. And then they were gone, swallowed in the midst of the crimson light that had sprung up around them. Suzaku had come to take them to their Priestess, and I felt him moving all around me as I watched my husband fade inside the red mist of the god's presence. A few moments later, the room was bare, save for me.  
  
I stand here now, alone and suspended in a state of shock, disbelief, and uncertainty. I have lost him again. Again. Just like before. Again. This is all that my mind can process, all that it can say in the confines of my skull. Before I know what I'm doing, I am on the floor of the bedroom, on my hands and knees, my fingers clutching at the place where he once stood only seconds ago. My fingernails scratch hopelessly at the hard wood floor even though I know that I cannot un-dig him from the earth. He has been taken somewhere far away, somewhere that I can never go and never be. And he is gone. I am left here.  
  
Finally, my heart bursts open and I am able to cry at last. As my hurt flows from me, I caress the floor, and soon I have collapsed, my cheek resting against the place where the sole of his boot once stood. I weep and allow myself to drift away from the world of the living, to the place of sleep and rest, hoping to find solace there. And I find it, nestled in soft darkness, waiting for me.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***  
  
I wake up quickly but gently, like being shook by soft hands, and my eyes open to see a fire burning steadily in a hearth. I finally realize that I'm in my own room when I rotate my face to either side and see the numerous, multi-colored pillows that could adorn only my bed. And I recognize my lavender coverlet and my white canopy and the softness of my linens. A heavy, deep sigh seeps out from between my lips.  
  
"You're finally awake, eh, Little One?"  
  
My head jerks to the foot of my bed, and sitting there at the small table, helping herself to a tray full of food, is Asako. Her eyes smile at me, taking over for her mouth, which is full of some sort of food, and she winks mischievously. I sit up in my bed and see that my waist-length hair has been braided to keep it from getting tangled during sleep and that I'm wrapped up warmly in one of my many sleeping gowns. Did Asako bring me to my room? How long has she been in the palace? How long has she been here in my room?  
  
"Well, Tansho, aren't you going to ask how I've been?" she replies, lifting an eyebrow and smirking at me. "You haven't come to see me for awhile, so I decided to come see you. And what do I find? Two servant girls struggling to haul you back to your room."  
  
"What?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes to clear them of sleep.  
  
"Yes," she remarks, "One told me she was your handmaid and had gone looking for you after you didn't return to your room. She and another girl found you in a vacant room on the far side of the palace, unconscious and sprawled out on the floor."  
  
"Naho..." I whisper. Poor little Naho. How I have worried that poor darling girl since I have been in her care.  
  
Asako seems to read my mind. "Don't' worry about your little handmaid. She knows you're in good hands. Now, tell me what the hell happened to you!" She takes a final bite of rice, then gets up and comes to sit beside me on the bed.  
  
"I don't really know. I just couldn't take it. I just–"  
  
"You just couldn't bear to see him leave you again," she says softly, finishing my sentence. I begin to ask her how she even knew that Tasuki was gone again, but she cuts me off for a second time. "Okichi told me. The Empress had revealed to her what had happened in the emperor's chambers – you know, the voice coming from the sky – and when she found out I was here, she hurried over here and told me. You've missed quite a lot of action, my dear." She smiles whole-heartedly, proudly showing the black gaps in her teeth.  
  
"Is Okichi still here?" I ask, looking around faintly. "It's been days since I've seen her."  
  
"Of course it's been days, silly. She's just like you. When a woman's man comes back from war, I should expect her to be preoccupied for quite a long while."  
  
Tokizo. How could I have forgotten about my darling Tokizo? I close my eyes and say a quick prayer to Suzaku, thanking him with all my heart for bring my dear friend safely back to his new love. I will have to go visit him soon; it's been far too long since we last spoke. I smile and breathe in deeply, happiness beginning to flow slowly back into me. I lean sideways and bump my shoulder into Asako's. It's been far too long since I last spoke with her as well. I lean my head gently on her solid shoulder, and smile contentedly when she rests her cheek on the crown of my head, nuzzling me.  
  
"How I've missed you, Little One," she whispers, and I can feel her smile.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***  
  
Asako stays with me for several days, and it doesn't take long to realize how badly I needed her and how thankful I am that she's here. We are all together again – me, Asako, Koi, Okichi, and Misa – all of us as we were in the Black Dove, but this time we are free and unburdened. And we are able to laugh and shout and act like fools just as young women should, not worrying about anything but our own happiness. We spend the days in the seraglio, eating sweets beneath the magnolia trees, or shopping in the markets, or strolling through the dozens of gardens sprawled throughout the palace. One day Asako takes us all to see Mayonaka, and we spend the day in her home, welcoming patients with her, talking, eating, laughing, and just being women.  
  
I sense my darling Asako's happiness wafting from her skin like smoke. It surrounds her on all sides, protecting her, and at times I'm so overwhelmed to see her so happy. I listen as she soothes away the fears of young mothers-to-be with her strong, soft words. I watch as she presses gently into their bellies with her callused fingers and smiles whenever she encounters the kick of the infant struggling within. This is what she was meant to do, both her and I feel it. And every day that we are together, she thanks me for saving her from the Black Dove.  
  
"Thank you for loving that man, Tansho," she tells me once, startling me with the bluntness of her words, "Without that love, I would not be here. The other girls would not be in the palace. You would not be so close to leaving this all behind and starting your new life." My dear second mother has always spoken the truth in such profound, beautiful ways. A woman like her was never meant to be a whore, and yet I find myself wondering what kind of woman she would be today if she had not spent a large portion of her life trapped inside the brothel. Would she still be so strong? So undeterred? So vibrant and proud and wise? I truly do not think so, and I know in my heart that she thinks the same.  
  
I'm grateful for these days that pass. I am genuinely happy during these days for the first time in quite awhile. I spend hours with Okichi and Tokizo, just talking and listening to them plan their lives with each other, wishing them love and luck and happiness. I spend hours with my little handmaiden, Naho, chatting about nothing.  
  
I visit Lady Hoki every day and spend a good hour or so in conversation, talking about whatever she needs to. I can sense the wounds of her soul by the way her words trickle like water from her mouth. These wounds are large and deep, and I know that each day I'm with her, simply listening to her speak her heart, that I'm helping her learn to heal herself. She is such a strong woman. She has taken her place as Empress Regent until her child is old enough to take the throne, which may be quite a while seeing as her belly is still as round as the moon. And she already has such great plans for Konan. She tells me of her desires to build schools and clinics, but it is the last of her long list of future projects that moves me the most. She tells me that she wants to try to eradicate prostitution from Konan. At first I am overwhelmed by her blunt announcement. Eradication of such a widespread, deep-rooted and popular business could be both extremely difficult and perhaps even dangerous to some point. But her words soften my uncertain heart.  
  
"After meeting you, I no longer pity those women. I feel for them and I admire the ones who are forced into it, and yet who remain strong like you did. I'm sure they must be few, but if you are here then surely there must be others like you," she tells me as we stroll together in the seraglio courtyard, wrapped in wool shawls to protect us from the winter air. "I want to give them better lives. I know I certainly can't bring them all to live here, even though I would love that more than anything. But don't you think I could build shelters for them, places where they can be safe as they try to find new lives for themselves? I worry only for the ones who care nothing for themselves, the ones who have chosen to be what they are."  
  
"You can only do what you can, my Lady," I offer, "The course of their lives should be in their own hands. You can only assist them."  
  
"Yes," she agrees, turning to me, "Yes I can." Her soft eyes drift away for a moment, and when they return to me, there is something more in them than before. "And why just prostitutes?" she muses, "Any woman who needs help, shelter, work, food...I could do something for them all..."  
  
"Yes, you can, my Lady," I reply happily, "There are many women in this city who are in need. They are looking for help, but not many find it."  
  
The lady empress returns to her reverie, thinking of the future and hoping.  
  
I suddenly realize something. I passed out on the floor of the Priestess's room after Tasuki and Chichiri vanished, and Asako told me that I had awakened the next morning. I missed His Highness's funeral. It has been an entire week since I paid my last respects, and I am only now just remembering. Guilt washes over me and I sigh heavily, catching Lady Hoki's attention. I turn to look at her, my face covered with apologies.  
  
"I'm so sorry that I missed His Highness's funeral," I say softly, "I never meant to."  
  
"Oh, my dear," she says, taking my hands in her soft fingers. "Don't be sorry. You couldn't help what happened. Okichi told me how you passed out after you saw Lord Tasuki and Lord Chichiri disappear to go to the Priestess's world. You poor thing. I'm the one who should be apologizing for not coming to visit you."  
  
How selfless this woman is. I can only stare at her and smile weakly. "My Lord's funeral was lovely," she continues, "Very small and very quite. It was hard for me to watch him being placed inside the tomb, but I only wept a little. I expected to collapse on the ground, wailing and screaming like a mad woman."  
  
"If you had, it would not have been dishonorable," I insist.  
  
"Perhaps. When I first received the news of his death and when I first saw his body being returned from the battlefield, I couldn't speak. I couldn't really show any kind of emotion. I wasn't sure just what exactly to feel. I couldn't believe that he was gone. I couldn't. And for several days I refused to. But when I saw the door of the tomb close, I suppose I finally understood that he was not here any more. And from that moment on, I have been trying to cope with that understanding. The grief is hard and cruel at times, but I am glad that I am experiencing it. I believe that it is making me stronger. Oh, but I shouldn't be commenting on grief, Tansho," she replies, her eyes downcast and cloudy, "Not when you've been through so much in your life. I feel foolish to talk of such things when your life has been full of so much more suffering than mine."  
  
Astonished and appalled at this, I take her hand and stop her in her tracks. I look in her eyes, gently but with great purpose. "You must never say or think that again, My Lady," I say sternly, "Never. Yes, my life has been hard – but I it has been for the better. I could not be who I am now if I had not lived my life. But most of all – I am not the one who has lost her husband." Instantly, I am both overjoyed and remorseful that I said this. I had not meant my words to be so sharp. And yet I had meant to speak this. Hoki's eyes suddenly begin to shine with tears, and then she is in my arms, weeping furiously, her voice rising and falling in the beautiful ways only a widow's could. I hold her for a long time and neither say nor do anything. Her firm, round belly presses against me, and more than once I feel the movement of the child inside of her. It makes me both sorrowful and ecstatic to feel such a thing. I find myself smiling. I give her time to cleanse herself of her tears before I offer my comforting words. "Mourning is meant to help heal," I tell her, "You must mourn. You must cry and wail and scream and weep as much as possible. Only this can heal your pain."  
  
I feel for her so deeply. I do not pity her; I only understand her suffering. Mine is similar. My husband may not be dead, but he is gone just the same. I cannot see him or hear him or touch him or speak to him. But I believe with all my heart that he is still here in the world, and I am thankful for that.  
  
After she is finished weeping, the empress is able to find the strength to speak some more, and I am more than willing to listen to her. For the rest of the day I am happily preoccupied with our numerous conversations, and I miss her instantly when we must part at sundown to retire to our separate rooms.  
  
One day, about a week and a half after that day in the Priestess's room, a firm knock on my door resounds throughout my chambers. Naho is with me, helping me hang up some recently laundered gowns in my wardrobe, and she quickly trots into the alcove the answer the door for me. I hear a man's voice drifting into my bedroom, and Naho's reply, and although the words are too distant to hear, I instantly recognize the deep, heavily accented voice. I hurl the cream-colored gown I am holding onto my bed and dash though my bedroom into the alcove. There, standing nervously with his strange blue eyebrows arched questioningly, is Koji.  
  
Without thinking twice, I fling myself into his arms and hug him close to me, earning a surprised gasp from him and an even more surprised expression from my timid little handmaiden.  
  
"Koji!" I exclaim, releasing him and stepping back so that he can see my smile. "I'm so happy to see you again!"  
  
Although obviously shaken and a little embarrassed by my overjoyed reaction to seeing him, I can easily tell how flattered he is as well. He smiles warmly at me, though his lips instantly slip into a smirk afterwards, drawing attention to the deep scar he carries on his cheek. I want to compliment him so badly on that scar, to tell him how it brings beauty to his face; but I'm unsure of how he would take it. Only the gods know how he came to have it.  
  
"Hey there, Tansho," he replies in his exotic, accented voice, "I'm really glad to see you too. It's been awhile, huh?" He reaches a hand behind his head and scratches momentarily before resting his hands on his hips.  
  
"Please come in!" I offer happily, motioning for him to follow me out of the alcove. When we're in my sleeping chambers, I hear him let out an impressed whistle.  
  
"Nice place you got here," he remarks, "I bet you're gonna be a little sad when you leave with Genro, huh?"  
  
"Oh no," I answer truthfully, offering him a seat at the little table at the foot of me bed, "I'm actually so excited that I can hardly keep myself calm sometimes."  
  
"You didn't seem surprised to see me, so I guess Genro told ya I was coming, huh?"  
  
"Yes, and I want to thank you for doing that. I'm very touched that you'd come all the way here to the palace just to make sure I got back to the mountain safely," I reply, smirking to myself as I remember mine and Tasuki's conversation before he left for the priestess's world. Then I suddenly realize that Koji doesn't know Tasuki's not here. He doesn't know that Tasuki's not even in this world any more. I think for a moment how to tell him, but I can think of no gentle way.  
  
"Oh, no problem," Koji answers, and for a second I think I can see the mischief gleaming in his lively eyes. I feel sorry that I must tell him his closest friend is probably battling his enemy at this very moment.  
  
"There's something I must tell you, Koji," I say, trying to keep my voice calm, "Tasuki isn't here. He hasn't been here for the past week and a half. He's in the Priestess's world, fighting Nakago with Chichiri. I'm sorry that I don't know all the details, but I do know that he is doing his duty as a warrior of Suzaku and fighting with all his heart and mind."  
  
At first Koji seems taken aback, and then suddenly he seems to sink into understanding. He replies calmly, "I knew something like this would happen. Nakago pretty much got away without much of a fight at the end of the war. I knew it wasn't over yet." He lifts his eyes to mine, and although I thought I was hiding it well, I know that he sees my worry and anxiety. I've been covering it up ever since Tasuki left, but now that I'm talking about it, I feel it more strongly than ever before. Dear gods, I'm so afraid for him!  
  
Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm crying. It begins as soft tears, trickling timidly down my cheeks, and then it escalates into unabashed bawling that startles even me. I don't see Koji get up from his seat. I don't see him cross the small distance between us. But I do feel his arms suddenly encircle me. Although I'm surprised by Koji's sudden action, I am unbelievably thankful for the strong embrace of a man, especially the man who loves my husband like a brother and is no doubt worried about him just as much as I. He lifts me up from my chair and hugs me fully to him. The feel of a man holding me is the most calming sensation in the world, and I am more than willing to allow him to comfort me. I cry into his chest for a long time and thank him silently for the gentle strength of his arms around me. When he finally lets go of me, he is smiling, which makes me narrow my eyes in confusion.  
  
"You really love that old bastard, don't you Tansho?" he asks, the tone of his voice both joking and serious. "I knew you did. When I first met you that day me and Genro came to the palace to see His Highness, I felt this connection between the two of you. It felt like you guys were meant to be there, side by side, together. It just felt right."  
  
"It still does," I reply weakly, my voice trembling from my crying. "I love him so much that sometimes I wonder if it really is love. Maybe I'm just endlessly fascinated with him or only enamored – not really in love. I never knew that love could be this strong and this wonderful and this intense. I'm so glad that I found him."  
  
"And believe me, he's glad as hell that he found you," Koji remarks with a sly grin. "You should hear that guy talk about you. The first time I heard about you I was blown away. By how he described you, I was pissed off like hell that I hadn't met ya first."  
  
I laugh out loud but quickly turn my face away, afraid that the tears may come again. But I feel his fingers touch my cheek, and he gently nudges my face back towards his. "That guy really loves ya, Tansho," he says to me, "And I can tell how much you love him. I don't think he'd leave ya after all the two of you have been through. I know he's fighting like hell, just like ya said, to save Miaka and get back here as soon as he can to be with you again."  
  
"I hope so," I whisper.  
  
"I know so," Koji replies firmly.  
  
We sit and talk for a while longer, and I listen happily as Koji tells me story after story about Tasuki. He tells me about when he first arrived at Mount Reikaku, how he came to get his iron fan, and what led up to him finally deciding to go with the Priestess to be her warrior. I feel so close to Tasuki as I hear about his life from someone who has known him much longer than I have. I sense him all around me, and I soon find myself genuinely happy again.  
  
I send Naho to inform the caretakers of the guest rooms that a visitor has arrived, and when she returns to announce that Koji's room has been prepared, I am quick to insist that he remain here in the palace until Tasuki returns. He is quick to oblige, and although I know it's mostly because he wishes to see his friend alive and safe soon, I also know that it's to hopefully spend more time with Koi.  
  
When he takes his leave, I am about to comment that he go pay her a visit, but to my pleasant surprise, he beats me to it.  
  
"I was wondering," he replies as I bid him goodbye at my door, "Could you tell me where Koi's room is? I'd really like to see her again. Do you think she's mind?"  
  
"Oh, not at all!" I answer, perhaps a little too giddily, "Her room's down the veranda in that direction, the seventh door after mine." I point in the direction of her room, and out of the corner of my eyes I see his face light up. A happy smirk fixes itself on his handsome face, and with one last smile at me, he bids me goodbye.  
  
A/N: I love this chapter. It's sad, but so happy too, don't you think? ^_^ Well, anyways, I hope you guts enjoyed it. Sorry for the long update...school as always. * sigh * Well, I would love to answer all of your reviews, but time is definitely not on my side at the moment, so I'll just give some quick answers to all that asked questions:  
  
How many chapters? Not sure because I'm not finished, but let me put it this way – the end is very close (sad, I know...)  
  
Yes, I have seen the OAVs, but as of now I don't plan on continuing the story into them. I plan on ending it at the end of the TV series, but you never know what may happen later on down the road...  
  
And a big, fat thanks to all that read, review, or both!! I adore you all for the support you give me. You help this story come to life. Luv and kisses to all! ^_^  
  
Aama 


	61. The Finding of Happiness

Chapter 61  
  
The Finding of Happiness  
  
Another week passes slowly and uneventfully. Although I am thankful for the serene atmosphere of the seraglio, my inner self is far from soothed. I abhor not knowing things.  
  
I often find myself sitting alone in the middle of the day, staring out of my window or standing on the docks, staring out into the lovely endlessness of the ocean, and hating myself for letting him leave me again. I don't know the priestess's world. I don't where it is or what is in it. I don't know if it is similar to my world or the total opposite. And I don't know if my husband will ever leave it alive. I do not hate myself; I hate my ignorance. How could I just let him go like I did? No questions asked. No questions answered. Nothing. Just being left. There is only one thing I know for sure – Chichiri told me before he and Tasuki left that a single day in the priestess's world is like a month in ours. I am both thankful and regretful that I know this information. Because I know about this, I allow myself to become overpowered with the thought of weeks passing in this world, but only hours in the one where my husband is. If two and a half weeks have passed in Konan, how many hours or days have passed in the world where my husband battles? This thought is constantly pressing upon my mind.  
  
Even as I sit here now, alone in my chambers, my thoughts wander to him. In my lap sits the little wooden box that he gave to me before he left for Hokkan – the box that held the red and blue earrings identical to his own. I'm wearing them, and I'm wearing the azure coat that he brought as a gift from Hokkan. In my hair is the jeweled clip that he also brought back for me from his journey. I have adorned myself with everything that my husband ever gave to me, but not really knowing why. Perhaps I just long to touch something that I know he touched as well. Whatever my unknown reason may be, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I am waiting patiently and hopefully for him.  
  
Since I am dressed appropriately for the winter in my thick, fox fur- lined coat, I decide to take a walk outside. And as I rise from my chair by the window, walk across my room and out my door onto the veranda, I feel him with me. My steps are soft and paced, with no destination and no purpose, and I can feel him walking silently beside me. Like the sharp winter air, memories blow across my face, through my loose hair, and around my body, enveloping me. So many things stored away inside my mind. So many that I do not need. So many that I wish I had but know I have lost. So many beautiful ones and so many ugly ones. More than anything in the world, I desire to replace those ugly memories with the ones that are to come. There are so many things I have to look forward to in my new life. There is so much left for me to do in my life.  
  
I smile warmly to myself, reveling in the knowledge that one day soon I will see Mount Reikaku again and feel its shadow on my face. One day soon I will be free from the city; never again will I have to smell its unclean scent or look at its harshness. One day soon I will begin living again as I was meant to live. My smile broadens, and I draw my lovely blue and silver coat closer around my body, surrounding myself with hope.  
  
I do not realize that I am being observed until I hear Okichi's lively giggle emerge from the air behind me. She appears suddenly at my side, her statuesque frame warmly wrapped up in a long, wool shawl that trails the ground at her heels.  
  
"And just what are you smiling about?" she asks playfully, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
I glance affectionately at her, my eyes warm, my lips still spread happily in a grin. "Things," I reply, my voice airy.  
  
"Things?" she retorts, "Just things?"  
  
I shake my head gently. "Things I never thought could be mine."  
  
When she hears this, she understands, and I sigh softly as her arm wraps itself around my waist. She leans her head on mine momentarily as we walk together, then lifts it again to turn her eyes to mine. "I was thinking about those same things too," she replies.  
  
I stop walking, and I keep my eyes on hers. "I want to tell you something, Tansho," she says, "It's something I never knew I could have. Never." A part of me is elated. A part of me is concerned. What does she speak of? Her strong hands slip into mine. "Tokizo has asked me to be his wife."  
  
I can feel the inside of me begin to glow with warmth, and I am so ecstatic that for several long moments I can do nothing but smile. And then I howl in laughter like a lunatic, making Okichi's bright, clever eyes widen in astonishment. In one sudden movement, I've pulled her into my arms, laughing and grinning. My happiness for her surrounds me like a blanket made from the sun, making me forget the sharp chill of the winter air. Gods, can this be true? Can my darling Okichi, my sister, my friend, truly have finally found this kind of happiness? The glittering of her eyes answers my question, and once again I am overcome with pure glee and end up laughing even louder.  
  
Our arms entwined, our lips spread in boisterous smiles, we continue strolling through the courtyard, simply enjoying each other's company and the wonderful news. By the way her teeth nibble her pink lips and her hands squeeze mine, I can tell she has so much to tell me. And finally, she does. In one long, breathless sigh she tells me the dreams of her future, and I listen so happily and peacefully that I wonder if I'm not walking through Heaven with her.  
  
"He wants to purchase a townhouse near the palace," she gushes, "He took me to see it yesterday, and, oh, Tansho...it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen!"  
  
Her words fall from her grinning lips like leaves falling from a tree, contentedly and softly. And I listen to every word she says, smiling and nodding and wondering and hoping. In the years I have known Okichi, she has never allowed herself to be so care-free. During our many days and nights in the brothel, she was always calm and nonchalant. She was clever and insightful. She always paid attention and never let her guard down for a moment. But now, as I walk with her beside me, listening to the plans she has for her life, I can feel no barrier around her. Okichi has always protected herself with her wisdom, but in this moment it is like she is naked. Her shell is gone. And I am here to witness its departure.  
  
Still smiling, I listen on. And when she is too tired to speak any longer, I kiss her cheek and her hands and tell her how much I love her. And then I thank the gods for finally giving our lives back to us, to live as we please.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************************  
  
On a lovely day when the sun is glowing warm, Misa comes to me and tells me that Empress Hoki has asked her to continue living permanently in the palace. She has been asked to oversee the organization of the shelter being built to assist prostitutes desiring to leave their profession. I am at first surprised that Lady Hoki has done so much work in the few weeks since she mentioned her thoughts of this to me, but then I am overjoyed to hear that her mind has been on other things besides the loss of her beloved husband.  
  
Misa's face reminds me of Okichi's – perfectly content. Her dark eyes shine with so much life that I must look away more than once. And her lips, just like Okichi's, cannot stop smiling.  
My heart thunders inside of me. I am both unbelieving and overjoyed. Finally, after so many long years of suffering physically, mentally, and emotionally, the women whom I love more than my own life are finding their happiness. I think of Asako, how she endured beatings so severe that they left her with gaps in her teeth, and how she is now helping to bring children into the world with her gentle, callused hands. I think of Okichi, who found her lover in my protector and beloved friend, Tokizo. I think of Koi, who, to my delight, is obviously falling in love with my husband's most trusted friend. I think of Misa, who has found her calling in helping women who she was once like. And I think of myself, how I grew from a frightened girl child into a woman who eventually demanded her freedom. All of this thanks to a single man who dared to love me and dared to make me see myself.  
  
I embrace Misa fiercely, trying my hardest not to start weeping. My dear little Misa. I have always admired her for her strength and determination. So sly. So seductive. I smile when I remember how she had tried the hardest of all the other women to bed Tasuki and win our little game. I will never forget her pouting lips and narrowed eyes. I will never forget any of these women. I grin madly into Misa's soft, coffee bean-colored hair. Who could forget these women?  
  
**************************************************************************** ************************  
  
By the third week of Tasuki and Chichiri's absence, my mind is tangled with worrisome thoughts even though my heart is still swollen from happiness upon hearing the good fortunes of my friends. Every now and then, I still have to remind myself that it is all true – that Asako is apprenticed to one of the greatest midwives in Konan and is already helping to deliver children into the world, that Okichi is going to wed Tokizo and live in a beautiful townhouse near the palace, that Misa is going to be the overseer of Lady Hoki's growing project to help women trapped in the business of selling themselves, that Koi is falling in love with Koji so swiftly and deeply that it seems like a dream. And that our lives are finally ours again. Each of us has chosen this for ourselves – absolutely none of it has been forced on any of us. And this thought alone lifts our souls so high that we wonder if we'll ever come down again.  
  
It seems unreal. It seems far too wonderful to ever be true. But it is. I see its truth every time I visit Asako and Mayonaka in their home. I see it every time I witness a gentle kiss or caress shared between Okichi and Tokizo, or Koi and Koji. I see it when I watch Misa and Lady Hoki sitting in the shade of one of the courtyard gazebos, their enthusiastic voices and hand motions relaying all their hopes for the future of Konan's women. I see it everywhere around me, and I see that it is real. But I wish to see it next to me in the form of my husband. I miss him more and more as each day passes, and I find myself unknowingly spending more and more time idly, doing nothing but pining for him and worrying for him. I feel both proud and ashamed of myself. I feel both powerful and helpless. I am afraid. I am so afraid that he will not come back, and that I will be left here in the midst of my sadness as I watch the happiness of the people around me. These thoughts paralyze me at times, leaving me staring lifelessly into the distance, wondering. And it is in a moment like this, when my body is dead and my mind is battling itself, that I feel a strong hand press itself to my cheek and turn my face to the light.  
  
Lady Junko stands above me, her regal physique outlined by the soft winter sunlight. Her black hair and sapphire-colored eyes gleam with so many emotions and thoughts that I find myself staring hard at her, trying to discern what she is made of. It has been a long while since we last spoke. We see each other often as we walk through the courtyard or down the verandas on our way to our business, but her duties as Headmistress of the Seraglio and my preoccupation with the absence of my husband has left us both lacking of each other's company. I smile warmly at her, happy to see her, and happy to feel the touch of another person.  
  
"May I sit?" she asks quietly, inclining her head to my side. I am seated on the steps that lead up to the veranda of the building closest to the gates of the seraglio. My eyes had been fixed there only moments before, on the simple loveliness of the golden and iron gates that allow entry and exit to the harem. I want to be here when he comes back to the seraglio looking for me. I want to be right here waiting for him. I don't want him to have to search for me.  
  
"Of course," I whisper to Lady Junko, scooting over slightly to allow her room. She seats herself on the smooth wooden plank of the step as elegantly as the action will allow, and folds her long, slender hands over her knees. Her shining blue eyes follow my gaze to the gates, and she sighs lightly into the chilled air.  
  
"You're waiting for him, aren't you?" she asks, but I know that she knows the answer to her question.  
  
I nod in response anyway.  
  
"He won't be gone much longer," she continues. "If the stories I've heard from Misa, Koi, and Okichi are true, he has been forced to be away from you far more than he's been able to be with you. Is this true?"  
  
Once again, I nod.  
  
"I see. How unfortunate." Lady Junko's voice trails off into a soft hum, and I find myself frowning as I recognize it. It's from a song that tells the story of a woman separated from her lover for many years. She mourns for him and pines for him and prays for him to come back. But when he finally does, she no longer wants him because her love for him has been replaced with hatred. Over the course of the many years she spent wishing he hadn't left her, her heart eventually turned against him and blamed him for all her unhappiness. He died brokenhearted after she scorned him. She lived the rest of her life in bitterness and died alone, with only her hatred to comfort her.  
  
I tear my eyes away from the gates to gaze at Junko. Her face is innocent, but her eyes tell me that she knows I've been reached. She looks at me long and hard and meaningfully.  
  
"You were the one who helped Her Highness Lady Hoki lift herself from her sadness. You must not allow yourself to take her place. Your husband is still alive, and he is on his way back to you. Do not allow yourself to become the woman in that song. You are too great a woman to allow that to happen." Her words are swift and as sharp as the tip of a dagger. They strike me hard and leave me bruised and cut.  
  
Her lips smile softly, and her eyes reach into mine momentarily before she rises to her feet and disappears into the shadows of the veranda. I gaze over my shoulder for a long time, even after I've lost sight of her. And when I have regained my senses, I rise as well, leaving the gates behind me to walk into the shadows.  
  
In a single moment, my heart wakes up from its sleep of uncertainty. I cannot allow myself to worry and wonder and pray; I can only allow myself to keep my faith. I will not die like the woman in that song, full of bitterness and hatred for the man she once loved with all her power. I will die happy and warm and still in love. I will die in his arms, because he is coming back. Tasuki is returning for me one day soon. I can feel him at my back, getting closer and closer to me as each minute passes. And as I step inside my chambers, I thank Junko with everything I have for awakening me and helping me realize this once again.  
  
A/N: Hey there all!! I hope all of you are still enjoying the story... even though it's obvious how close the end is to us... ( I'm very sorry but it may be quite awhile before the next update. I've got two weeks of school left and finals are upon me!!! Waaahhh! But anyways.  
  
P/S. Sorry that I'm not replying to anyone's review. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate you, because I do!!! ^_^ It's just time as always. But I will answer to a reviewer who mentioned the FY novel about Nakago and Soi. Yeah, I knew that Soi used to be a prostitute, but I had no idea she was sold by her family at such a young age!! I've been wanting to read those novels, by the way, have they been printed in English? And are they even available in the U.S. yet? 


	62. The Forgotten

A/N: Hello there, all! Just to let you know, I am out of school for the summer and have decided to focus my full attention on this story in order to end it the way it deserves. I've been neglecting it for awhile now (actually ever since school re-started for spring semester), and I'm really pissed at myself. I used to write every single day, now I'm lucky if I can write once a week. I even saw that some of you, my readers, noticed my neglect in how my last chapter was a bit of a bore. My biggest apologies for that. I hope that neither this chapter nor the ones that come after it will make you think that again. My goal as a writer is to entertain, move, and inspire thoughts in my readers, and I'm sad to say that my last chapter did not do that. So, thank you immensely for being honest with me; that is what a writer needs in order to improve. I hope you enjoy this chapter and, once again, please feel free to express all thoughts on it in your reviews, whether they be good or bad.  
  
Chapter 62  
The Forgotten  
  
The day after Lady Junko sat next to me and opened my eyes again, Koi comes to my room, her face glowing like the moon, her hair shining like gold, her eyes on fire. And I know before she even steps over my threshold that she has come here to tell me something about Koji. I can feel it in the way she smiles, in the way her breath slides over her lips like fog over water, in the way her hands entwine themselves together. I smirk teasingly at her, letting her know outright that I know why she's here.  
  
"So," I reply, closing the door behind her, "What's happened? Anything I would be interested in?"  
  
"You mean, anything in my bedroom?" she retorts slyly, tossing a glance over her sloped shoulder.  
  
"Oh, Koi!" I answer playfully, "How dare you think me so crude?"  
  
She plops down happily on my bed and folds her legs in front of her like a child would do. She grins madly at me and winks. "Because I know exactly how you are, Tansho. You haven't changed since our days in the Black Dove – always wanting to know all the delicious little details." She continues smiling, but I do not.  
  
I close my eyes and simply stand still, my palm coming to rest on my face, covering one eye. How could she? How could she do this to me – to us? Bring up a memory of the Black Dove? I return my hand to my side and my eyes finally shift so that they focus properly, and I lock my gaze on Koi, partially accusing, partially confused. Only when I catch the glint of guilt in her dark pupils do I realize that she forgot herself. She didn't mean to. She didn't mean to speak the name of that place.  
  
"It's alright," I whisper gently, sitting down beside her. Her eyes stare at me, so guilty and so wounded. She hurt herself as well as me. "It's alright," I repeat, firmer this time. She shakes her head slowly, as if to say I'm wrong. It's not alright. It should not have been spoken. It should not have been dug up from its grave.  
  
"I remember so much, Tansho," she murmurs softly, resting her forehead on my shoulder, taking my hand in hers. "It just comes back to me sometimes when I least expect it. Forgive me. I didn't mean to make you remember it too."  
  
"I already remember it," I answer, "I have just as many memories as you do. I guess that I've just learned how to keep them locked up well. We all have, in our own ways, but they cannot be forgotten. They'll always be there."  
  
"But I guess that's not bad," Koi comments, lifting her head to look at me. "It's good it's remember – so that we can know how lucky we are." I nod silently, smiling softly at her pretty face.  
  
"Yes," I reply.  
  
"Do you remember what you did the first night you were there, in the Black Dove?" she asks.  
  
My eyes narrow, intrigued by her question. It has been so many years ago. I was only a child then, and I most likely tried my hardest to forget whatever happened that night. But then I remember. My first customer was that fool of a man who tore my dress and pulled my hair trying to get me to succumb to him.  
  
I inhale as I nod my head solemnly. "That idiot bastard took away my innocence. Gods how I wish he could have been a handsome merchant or one of those lovely farmers with dark skin and smooth arms." I am both angered and amused by my memories. Koi sighs and shakes her head at me.  
  
"You're only remembering part of it, Tansho," she tells me, shifting her body to face me. "Don't you remember what happened? Don't you remember what you did?"  
  
I look at her questioningly. What else is there to remember? He finally succeeded in ridding me of my clothes and restraining me by keeping a handful of my hair in his fist, threatening to rip off my entire scalp unless I quit thrashing. And then he had done what he had paid to do. It had hurt more than anything else I had ever felt, and I was left in shock, my thighs smeared with the blood from my torn skin, my eyes red with tears, my scalp sore from his constant pulling. But I had survived. And I have survived many others since that night. But everything is alright now. All that is gone, never to be re-lived. What else is there to remember?  
  
Koi's eyes deepen as she realizes I don't remember what she apparently does. The expression on her face is one of amazement, mixed thickly with disbelief and anger. "I can't believe you've forgotten, Tansho. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen, and you can't remember it."  
  
"Then tell me!" I shout impatiently, "Please!"  
  
Her face softens in apology, and she settles herself into the comfort of my bed as if preparing to tell a great story that has been passed through the mouths and ears of hundreds of generations. It's almost amusing. But when she begins to speak, I understand the significance of my lost memory.  
  
"When that man came out of the room where you and he had been, he looked as if a demon had torn him apart. His face, his arms, his chest, his back – hell, Tansho, even his legs were covered in blood! You had scratched the bloody hell out of him!" Koi's eyes are alive and full of fire, as if the memory has stoked her mind. "Shingen stared at him for the longest time, refusing to believe you had done that to him. The client just stood there like he had been hit upside the head with a stone and knocked senseless." She grins at me and suddenly bursts out laughing, falling back on my bed in a whoosh of cushions and linen. "You tore him to pieces, Tansho! Me and the other girls laughed and laughed for days, but poor little you – he had hurt you just as much as you hurt him." She stares up into the soft white chiffon of my canopy, the memory still playing out in her mind's eye. "Shingen locked you up outside for three days, keeping you chained to the latrines as punishment. But when he let you loose to deliver you to your next customer, you did the same thing. Client after client after client went into a room with you all proud and full of himself, and came out covered in blood and scratches, cursing and howling. You took your revenge before you ever needed to. "  
  
I don't know what to say. I don't even know what to think. I did that to my first customers? "Why don't I remember any of this, Koi?" I ask quietly, still stunned by her story.  
  
She sits up and faces me again, her expression now one of seriousness. "Because Shingen didn't want you to," she states flatly. "He finally had to resort to beating you every time you attacked your customers. Eventually, after your face was covered in bruises and cuts, your lips split open, and two of your ribs cracked, you stopped. You never did it again. In fact, you became a very good whore if my memory serves correctly." She allows herself a sad, sarcastic smile.  
  
I stare at her, my eyes blank. Is she telling me the truth? Did I really do what she says I did? Her face answers all of my questions with an echoing "yes". And I forgot it all. If only I had continued, maybe I could have eventually escaped. If only my will and little body could have withstood Shingen's fists. Maybe things would have been different for me.  
  
But would I have met Tasuki? Would I be here now, surrounded by the beauty and the safety of the palace? Would my friends finally be having their chance to find happiness? No. The answer is no, and I know it.  
  
I sigh heavily as if glad to finally be rid of something, but I'm not sure what that something is. I look at Koi, who is looking at me, an odd mixture of regret, happiness, and sadness swirling in her eyes like a whirlpool. I am grateful to her for telling me what I have forgotten. It was like a small revelation – knowing that I was not demure and helpless when I first arrived at the Black Dove. I was stubborn and headstrong, and I still am – I just happened to forget about it for five years.  
  
"You know," Koi pipes up, "I did come here to tell you something about Koji."  
  
My attention instantly caught by the mention of his name, I turn to face my friend, a broad smile on my lips. "Really?" I inquire, my voice coy and soft. She nods happily.  
  
"He has asked me to come with him when he returns to Mount Reikaku," she replies.  
  
My hands rise to my lips, covering them to keep from yelling in happiness. My eyes widen and stare at Koi in disbelief and joy, unsure of what to say or do. She simply sits and smiles nonchalantly, as if she expected me to be speechless and planned ahead of time to appear aloof. Suddenly, I have her in my arms, embracing her with all I have, wanting to press her so close to me that she can feel how blissful my soul is. But she only laughs heartily and hugs me in return, as if she has no care in the world. And I realize in this moment just how much I love Koi.  
  
"You're really coming with us?" I ask, sitting back momentarily to gaze at her.  
  
She nods and smiles broader. "He's waiting for Tasuki to come back. And once he's back and you're ready to go too, he and I are going to go with the two of you back to the mountain."  
  
"I can't believe it," I whisper, "You're really coming with us? You're coming to live on the mountain?"  
  
"Yes!" she laughs.  
  
"We get to stay together? I don't have to leave you behind?"  
  
"No!"  
  
I burst out laughing. And my laughs are deep and strong and full of all the emotions swirling around inside of me. I feel joy and surprise and sadness and love, all flowing around inside of my soul like a river. I hold Koi in my arms and thank every god that I know of. I get to keep her. We get to stay together. It isn't until this moment that I realize how much sadness I was carrying around inside of me, thinking about the wonderful day when I will leave with Tasuki – and the horrible day that I will leave behind the women who have been my only family for five years. I knew it would be hard for me, but it isn't until now when I know I don't have to leave them all that I understand how truly emotionally crushing it will be for me – and now for Koi as well.  
  
We pull away from each other, knowing what the other is thinking, knowing what sorrow is to come. But we have each other. She has Koji. I have Tasuki. And, thank the gods, we have each other. Both she and I have endured many things together, and we have survived them all. We will survive this, too – we have been trained well.  
  
On a night that is cold and dark and beautiful, I dream of my mother. I do not expect to see her when I blow out the lamp at my bedside and curl myself happily into the warm linens of my bed. But there she is, smiling at me the moment I close my eyes.  
  
She lies beside me, her hands cradling her face, her eyes sleepy. She is just as I remember her – perfectly lovely, with no flaw evident to her daughter's eyes. Her hair still shines like polished mahogany. Her eyes still seem to be filled with smoke. The scent of her exotic, provocative perfume flows throughout the air of my chambers, caressing and permeating everything, just as it did to our home and her tailor shop so many years ago.  
  
"Hello, Tansho," she whispers to me, her pale hand reaching out from beneath the linens to take mine. Her skin is warm and smooth, just as it was when she would take my hand in hers to guide the needle into the fabric. I come close to weeping when I feel her touch me. It has been so long since I felt her touch. And she sees the pain as it flashes across my face, because I see it mirrored on hers instantly. "Oh, my darling," she murmurs, her soft voice flowing like honey over my skin, "You have no reason in the world to cry."  
  
"I do, Mother," I answer slowly, "My husband is gone." I speak to her as if she knows nothing of the life I have lived since the day she died, even though I know she does. Her eyes close slowly and heavily, as if she is dozing off, but then they snap open, and I see inside of her.  
  
"But he is not dead," she states, her tone of voice suggesting that this is a known fact, as if stating that the sky is blue and that I am a woman. My eyebrows come together in inquiry.  
  
"I don't know this for sure," I whisper, almost sounding helpless.  
  
Suddenly, my mother bolts upright, her dark hair swirling, her eyes aggravated just as they were whenever I would snap a thread and be forced to unravel all of my work. "Yes you do!" she cries out. "You just won't allow yourself to believe it. You want to believe that he is still living and on his way back to you, and yet a part of you does not. You are afraid, Tansho."  
  
"Afraid?" I ask, "What am I afraid of?"  
  
"You're afraid of being happy, you silly girl," she replies, her sensuous voice softening again to the tone that if so sweetly familiar to me. Her hands cup my cheeks. I can feel the small, hard calluses on the tips of her first finger and thumb. All the years of sewing and embroidering gowns made them rise like little hills on her otherwise smooth fingers. Her ash-colored eyes peer hard into mine, forcing me to see for myself what she is trying to tell me. "You've had happiness stolen from you so many times that you've begun to fear possessing it fully. You're content to feel it, but you're afraid to live within it."  
  
I lift my hands and press them over my mother's, pushing the warm skin of her palm harder against my cheeks. Is my mother speaking the truth? A portion of me already believes; it is the child within me that is willing to believe every word that is whispered from her mother's lips. And yet the woman within me is beginning to believe as well. Is this why my faith in Tasuki has faltered so many times in the past? Is this why I sometimes dread his return as much as I long for it? I look up at my mother and narrow my confused eyes at her. Could this be the real reason I pushed him away in the beginning? Could this be the real reason I feared returning to the mountain? Happiness?  
  
"Mama," I whisper, my voice ragged. I sit up and fall into her, my face pressing against her soft breasts, my arms curling around her. I cry as softly as the rain, but my heart is crying harder. I believe my mother's words wholly now. I fear my own happiness because I fear it will eventually be taken away from me. My head rises, and my eyes meet my mother's, demanding an answer for my unspoken question.  
  
"Will it be taken away again?" I whisper.  
  
She smiles, instantly comforting me. "Only if you allow it to be."  
  
I nod and exhale heavily, feeling as if I have finally been able to roll a thousand rocks from my aching shoulders. I wipe the tears from the edges of my eyes with my sleeve and smile gently at my mother.  
  
"You have grown into a lovely woman, Tansho," she says to me, running a callused fingertip down the bridge of my nose and beneath my chin, tracing my face. "I can see so much strength and wisdom in your face. It makes you shine like the surface of the moon." She pulls me to her and presses her lips against mine, then embraces me. I can hear her lungs breathing in my scent. I can feel her hands tracing the arches of my shoulder blades. I can feel her heart beating hard against mine. I wrap my arms around her body, knowing that she is going to leave me again very shortly.  
  
"You have found such a wonderful love, my beloved daughter," she whispers into the waves of my hair, "You must keep him with you always. He will be to your soul what water is to your body."  
  
A/N: Hi there once again! I hope this chapter offered more than my last did, because to me it is one of the most pivotal in the story. Tansho discovers that she has always been a strong-willed person, therefore allowing her to survive for so long. And she also makes peace with herself during her conversation with her mother. I have thought and thought and thought of why I could not simply make Tansho happy, and while in the middle of this chapter, I understood. She is afraid of happiness because it has been taken away from her so many times. It is as simple as that. And there are thousands of other people exactly like her. That's what is so sad, but also so encouraging.  
  
Thanks again for all your reviews and thanks for reading this story so faithfully!! You've been my greatest support!  
  
Aama 


	63. My Own Heart

A/N: Hey all, so sorry that this update took nearly a month! But since I've been out of school I've had to juggle work and writing and a lot more than I expected, so thanks for being patient! I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
  
Chapter 63  
My Own Heart  
  
I awake one morning and feel an irresistible urge to see the ocean. Although I know that I should take the time to dress properly for the biting cold of the winter weather, I opt to simply pull my fox fur-lined coat on over my nightdress and a pair of slippers on my feet. When I step outside my door, I see that the night is still clinging on although I expected it to already be dawn. The eastern edge of the sky has yet to redden with the rising sun. Slowly, I stroll toward the palace docks, following nothing but my urge to look at the sea.  
  
When I reach the docks, I descend the wooden stairs that lead to the beach and take off my slippers before stepping out onto the cool sand. My slippers dangling from my fingers, my feet buried in the thick sand, I walk down to the shoreline and watch as the water flows upwards toward me as if it's trying to reach out and touch me. But knowing better not to allow my feet to get wet, I stay well out of its reach.  
  
I am there on the beach, staring out into dark sea, when the sun begins to rise. It is a slow, beautiful process, beginning with the lightening of the eastern sky where it touches the water, followed by the vibrant colors of the sunrise. Yellow, orange, pink, and red begin to blend together in the sky and on the ocean, each reflecting off the other. And as the red sun ascends above the dark waves, I feel the air around me change. An oddly comfortable heaviness presses upon me, and I feel as if I know this sensation. It is familiar as much as it is strange. And then I catch the scent of something that makes me open my mouth and inhale deeply, happily. I know that aroma. I know these feelings. Breathing heavily and feeling oddly happy, I sit down on a nearby stone and watch the remainder of the sunrise, my mind wondering what in hell is happening to me. I continue sitting well into the morning, simply staring off into the sea, watching the waves rise and fall and surge. And then I realize that this day is going to be very different. That is what I felt in the air; that is what I smelled. I've forgotten how I can sense these odd things.  
  
Smiling, I rise from the stone and leave the sea behind me.  
  
All day, I wait for the wonderful thing to happen -- the thing I felt coming while I was on the beach, the thing heralded by the comforting heaviness and the sweet scent rising on the air. I wait for it and I wait for it. But it does not come. Finally, I give up the wait and change from my day clothes into a cotton sleeping dress and curl myself into the soft linens of my bed. There is a strange mixture of emotions flowing throughout me. I feel disappointment, confusion, anxiety, curiosity. What did I feel this morning on the beach? Am I going mad? Baffled and uncomfortable, I somehow manage to drift off to sleep.  
  
I don't know how much of the night passes before I feel his hand on my skin. He touches me carefully and with great tenderness, as if he wants to wake me and yet doesn't want to. But he pushes me from my sleep nonetheless, and when I open my eyes, he is there beside me. It is still nighttime, and without the light from my hearth or the small oil lamp at my bedside, I can see very little of him save for the smoky silhouette of his body created by the moonlight shining through my window. But that is enough. That is enough for me.  
  
"Hey," he whispers.  
  
"Hey," I whisper back, smiling softly.  
  
He leans over me, bringing our faces closer together. I can see his eyes and mouth, both gleaming in the brilliance of the moonlight. The dark green of his irises shimmers as the golden flecks within them catch the light, and one corner of his mouth lifts devilishly. I close my eyes happily and lift my hand up, intending to touch his face. But his hand intercepts my own and his fingers entwine themselves with mine, pressing our palms tightly together.  
  
"I'm here," he says, his voice sliding across the air and into me.  
  
"I know," I answer, "I felt you coming."  
  
He only smiles at me, his beautiful, true smile, and lifts my hand to his face. He presses the back of my hand gently to his cheek and I can hear him breathe in the scent of the perfume clinging to the back of my wrist. I hear him inhale deeply, then release, then inhale again, as if he cannot breathe in enough of me.  
  
"Do you know that I was only in Miaka's world for less than a day?" he asks, his nose still pressed to my skin, "How long have I been gone in this world?"  
  
"Nearly three weeks," I answer, adoring the sensation of his fingers between mine. "Too long."  
  
"Too long," he repeats softly, finally taking his nose away from my wrist and kissing it in return. His lips slide across the tendons on the back of my hand, rising on the small mountains of my knuckles, and down the tops of my slender fingers. When his mouth reaches my fingertips, he kisses them as well, then turns my hand over slowly in his and nestles his cheek deep within the warmth of my palm. I take the chance to seize him, and with a gentle motion, I have slipped my hand behind his head and tugged him back down to my level.  
  
"Come here," I whisper, pulling him to me.  
  
He removes his black overcoat and boots and slides into the soft linens beside me. I scoot my body closer to his until my belly is pressed firmly to his and I can feel the thump of his heart on my breasts. I lift my other hand and cradle his face in both my palms as he wraps his hands lovingly around my wrists. Beneath the linens, our legs overlap each other, making us both grin. We are so close that I can see my reflection in the darkness of his lovely eyes. I am shining in his gaze as if I am made of silver. Slowly, I close my eyes so that I can only feel the rough softness of his hands and smell the earthy, salty scent of his skin. And as I feel him and smell him here with me, I fight the urge to weep. I desire more than I anything to let myself weep from happiness and gratefulness and relief. But I resist, knowing that my days of crying are over with, whether they be happy days or sorrowful days.  
  
I open my eyes again, expecting to see my reflection still shining beautifully in his gaze. But I don't. My husband's eyes are closed, and the smooth, even breath that flow from his parted lips tells me that he has fallen asleep. Smiling, I move myself even closer to him, giving him the warmth of my body. I release his face from my gentle hands in order to pull the linens higher, then Icurl my arms between our bodies, his fingers still lightly clenching my wrists. I rest my face close to his and brush my lips softly across his forehead before closing my eyes again and returning to sleep.  
  
I awake with a sigh of relief, because the moment I leave my sleep, I immediately feel my husband next to me. Sometime during the night he rolled from his side onto his back, taking me with him partially. His hands still hold my wrists gently in their grasp, pressing my own hands upon his chest, into his heart. I lie still for a long while and watch Tasuki continue to sleep. I watch as his eyelids flutter. I watch as my hands rise and fall with the motion of his chest, and I feel the soft thunder of his heart deep within him. It is a comforting, mesmerizing sensation to feel the heartbeat of my beloved beneath my touch.  
  
He is here. I can never be sure that he is truly here, with me, until I feel the strength of his heart pumping his blood beneath my palm. It is an unmistakable proof of his presence with me. I smile and bury my face within the warm hollow of his neck, drawing in the scent of him with every breath. I smell the salt of his sweat mixed slightly with dirt and a faint hint of what I soon realize is blood , though whether or not it is his I am not sure. My eyes sweep quickly across his body, searching for any obvious injuries. I see none, and yet I feel the stiffness of his muscles and the pain flowing through him thanks to his previous injury which he sustained in the war. He sleeps deeply thanks to these sufferings, and I am more than happy to let him.  
  
Tasuki sleeps deeply throughout the morning, and by early afternoon, he still has not roused. I lie still beside him, allowing him to continue holding my hands upon his chest even though my body aches slightly from not moving and my stomach moans pitifully to be filled. I shift uncomfortably. I also have a great need to visit the latrines. Finally, although I hate to leave him alone, I must get up from my bed.  
  
I dress quickly in a simple cream under robe and pale pink over robe, tying the two layers together with a wide, soft blue sash. I pull my ivory comb briskly through my hair, then leave it unbound and undecorated to sweep down my back in a long train of mahogany waves. I give myself a quick once-over in my vanity table mirror before I make a quick visit to the latrines at the back of the building. When I return, I knock gently on Naho's door, curious as to why I haven't heard her little knuckles tapping at mine yet this morning. She opens the door, her eyes cloudy, her hair disarrayed. I laugh heartily when I realize that I woke her.  
  
"My little darling," I coo playfully, "Do you mean to tell me that it is past noon, and you have just now risen from your bed?"  
  
"My lady..." she mumbles, beginning to tremble slightly, "Please...please do forgive me. I...I did not realize that..."  
  
I stop her with a hand on her cheek, still warm from being nestled in her pillows. "Hush now, and go back to bed if you wish, Naho," I say gently, "I was only curious as to where you were. You have my permission to sleep all day if that is what you want." I smile happily at her, and I think that she sees the source of my happiness reflecting in my smoke- colored eyes. She returns my smile with one of her own, one that whispers to me how happy she is that my husband has returned safely to me. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"  
  
"Yes, my lady," Naho replies, touching my hand lightly with the tips of her small fingers. "Tomorrow."  
  
I go to the kitchen after leaving my handmaid's room and request that lunch be delivered to my room as soon as possible. The cooks nod and happily declare that I will not have to wait long.  
  
Deliberately, I walk unusually slowly as I return to my room, pacing my steps, studying the world around me with great care and tenderness. I see the bright rays of the sun falling down through the leaves of the magnolia trees, painting the ground of the courtyard in pale yellow. I see the vivid colors of the flowers that line the cobblestone walkways, and I see the plain loveliness of the green grass. I see beauty in everything around me, and I want nothing more than to be still and simply observe it. But I must return to my sleeping husband before he wakes so that I can be there to greet him. This will be our first day together in a long, long while, and I wish it to be as beautiful as he is. My pace unconsciously quickens to a light trot, then to a hard jog, until I am unknowingly pounding my feet into the wooden planks of the veranda as I run toward my chambers.  
  
My breath is coming in thick gasps by the time I reach my door, and I take a moment to press my hand against the firm wood to support myself as I try to slow the fierce thud of my heart and the hard flow of my breath. When I have finally composed myself, I open my chamber door quietly and slip inside. Tasuki still sleeps soundly in my bed, his head tilted toward the window, his arms crossed serenely across his abdomen. As silently as I can, I approach him. When I reach the side of the bed, I remove my slippers and toss them into my open wardrobe, then climb in quietly beside him. The moment I have settled myself at his side, he turns his face to me and smiles playfully. The sly bastard. He was pretending to be asleep. Not able to resist the mischevious grin spread across his handsome face, I smile in return, then hit him softly on the shoulder. He only laughs and rolls on top of me, collecting me in his arms and pulling me with him as he rolls onto his back again.  
  
" How long have you been awake?" I ask, looking down into the insides of his strange, dark eyes.  
  
"Not long. You were gone. I thought you had gotten up in the middle of the night and left me," he answers.  
  
I lay my body out on top of his, my breasts pressed to his chest, my knees planted on either side of his thighs, my face hovering above his. His breath flows out of him and into me. "I would never leave you, Tasuki," I say firmly, my lips drawn into a tight line across my face. They float above his for a moment before dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss upon them. I smile softly and bring my hand up to his head, where my fingers glide smoothly through his fiery hair, making his eyes drift close in pleasure. But then they suddenly fly open again, hurt and guilt swimming inside of them.  
  
"Why not?" he asks me, his voice a haggard whisper, "Why would you never leave me? I've left you. I've left you so many times."  
  
I sigh heavily and lower my head until my cheek is resting at his collarbone. My hands continue to play in his smooth hair. "Yes, you have," I reply firmly, "But only because it was your duty as a warrior of Suzaku." I raise my head again so that my eyes meet his in a swift, smooth movement. "But tell me," I continue, "Is all that finished now? You haven't spoken a word of what happened. Tell me everything that happened while you were gone and I will tell you if I plan on staying or not." Even I am surprised by my oddly blunt words. Do I truly mean them? I have always believed that a person's soul takes over for their mind in moments of extreme uncertainty and tension. Perhaps this is what is happening. My mouth is speaking what my soul and my heart are feeling. I should trust myself.  
  
Tasuki looks at me with a startled expression on his handsome face, but his eyes do not duck from my gaze. They do not try to escape. "I'll tell you, Tansho," he says to me solemnly. And then he proceeds to do just that. I continue to lie on top of his warm, firm body as he speaks. And as he speaks, his hands move upwards until they are pressed into the soft fabric of the sash wrapped around my waist, pressing into the small of my back, holding me close to him. He relates to me the details of the strange world he fought in. He tells me about the towering buildings made of steel, the absence of trees and grass, the startling noises, the overwhelming smells, the odd sensations of a world that exists alongside ours but beyond our reach. His eyes falter every now and then as he relates the battle he and Chichiri shared with Nakago, and the final battle between Nakago and Tamahome. And his heart flutters beneath me in remembrance of the summoning of Suzaku, causing mine to flutter slightly as well. His eyes close as he tells of the deaths of Tamahome and Nakago, and the final farewell of Miaka, his priestess, the woman-child he had served with his heart and his life for the past several months. I watch as his eyes close in sadness of that particular memory. I know how he fought for her. I know how he protected her. And I know how he loved her. It could have been very easy for me to become jealous of her and the undeniable hold she had on Tasuki, on all of her warriors and nearly every man who came into contact with her, for that matter. But I understand what it was. It wasn't a conniving seduction. That girl could have never done something such as that. The genuine innocence of her heart was astounding to me. How a human being could be as compassionate and unselfish as she was is beyond me. It was the beauty of her pure heart that made people devote themselves to her and love her so fiercely. And I know that Tasuki loved her in such a way. I know that if it had been required of him to save his priestess's life, he would have gladly died for her. It does sadden me momentarily to think that she did in fact have this power over my husband, but I do not think badly of her in any way. She was the priestess of Suzaku, and Tasuki was one of her warriors; and they shall both share something unbreakable with each other that I will never know and never be a part of. And I accept this. And I honor it.  
  
His story is a sad one, a glorious one, and a moving one. His life as a celestial warrior of Suzaku is over, though he will always bear the mark of the god on his arm and will always have the memory and knowledge of what he was and what he did. He will always be a warrior of Suzaku, and yet he is just a normal man now. I can feel this in him. It's something very gentle and shy, telling me how new it is to him and his body. But it is there nonetheless, and it is why he is free of his duties as a warrior. He is free to be a normal man, free to return to his beloved mountain, free to be my husband.  
  
"Will you stay?" he asks solemnly, his eyes undemanding and soft, his lips half-smiling.  
  
"Yes," I answer him, "I will stay. Always."  
  
One of his hands slides from the small of my back to my hair, caressing me mindlessly as he smiles serenely at me. "Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes shining happily.  
  
"Ready to what?" I reply, grinning.  
  
"To go home."  
  
My grin widens and I can feel the light behind my eyes beginning to shine like his. I gently bite down on my lower lip and nod my head slowly. "Yes," I whisper, lowering my face closer to his, "I'm ready."  
  
For a long moment afterwards, we continue to lie quietly on my bed, not waiting for anything, not even really knowing what should come next. Both of us are slightly relieved to hear an enthusiastic knock on my chamber door, and I slide carefully off my husband's chest to answer it. Our lunch sits waiting on a silver tray in the hands of a kitchen maid, her face pink from the heat of the ovens, her hands callused from scouring kitchen floors. But her eyes are bright and their dark gray color reminds me of my own, making me smile. She smiles gently in return as I open the door for her so that she may place the tray inside my chambers. I offer her my thanks as she takes her leave, her gray eyes still smiling at me as I shut the door behind her.  
  
"That's where I went," I say as I stroll through my alcove and into the bed- chamber.  
  
"Huh?" Tasuki replies, cocking a dark eyebrow.  
  
"When you woke up and I wasn't here. I went to order lunch for us." I take a seat on one side of the small table at the foot of my bed and wait for my husband to get up from the bed and join me.  
  
Tasuki takes the hint and rolls lazily from the linens before slowly walking behind me. I then feel his strong hands on my back, his palms sliding over the curved slopes of my shoulders and down my arms. His hands take mine into them, curling my fingers to his as his chest leans gently into my back. I can feel he beat of his heart on the back of my neck, a haunting sensation that makes me part my lips and lean my head back into him. His mouth lingers near my ear, and I hear him whisper to me.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice flowing as soft as water. "I never meant to leave you, Tansho. I never meant to even fall in love with you, but you got into my soul somehow. You got into my heart, into my blood. And I couldn't wash you out. I didn't want to. I wanted to love you, so I did." He lifts my hands and presses them into the soft silk of my pink over-robe, pressing them into my heart. His hands lay on top of them, anchoring them. And he embraces me fully, making my breath gush from my lungs. "Forgive me for everything that I have done to hurt you. I did them all because I love you." His gentle words violently contradict themselves, and yet I understand every single one of them. They are true. They are strangely true.  
  
"I know," I reply. For the first time in a long while, I can feel the beat of my own heart beneath my skin. I press my palms harder to the tops of my breasts, and I feel my heart pushing my blood through my veins, keeping me alive. It is a bewitching sensation that leaves me mesmerized, frail in the embrace of my husband, indifferent to all else around me. I smile and turn my head so that my nose grazes the tip of my husband's. Our eyes open at the same time and our mouths smile at each other, playfully, lovingly, truthfully. "You sounded like a poet just now," I joke, playfully gazing at Tasuki through my eyelashes.  
  
"Don't ever tell Koji that," he replies, "I'll never hear the end of it."  
  
I gasp lightly when I hear Koji's name, and something sparks inside of me. There are many things to tell Tasuki now that he has returned -- the most important of which has to do with both of our closest friends.  
  
"Speaking of Koji," I remark, "I have some interesting news on him and a certain someone else."  
  
Intrigued, Tasuki kisses my cheek gently before slipping into the seat across from me at the small table. He leans his elbows on the smooth wooden surface as I pour tea for the both of us. "He came to the palace about a week after you and Chichiri left for the priestess' world," I tell him, sipping lightly at the steaming tea cradled in my hands. "He said that he had been expecting the two of us to join him and the others on the mountain once everything was settled here, but that he got worried when a week went by and we never came."  
  
"So he's here now?" Tasuki asks, his voice obviously excited. I nod, taking another dainty sip of my tea.  
  
"When I told him where you had gone, he said that he might as well stay here and travel back with us as soon as you returned."  
  
"Well I'll be damned!" he cries happily, slapping a palm playfully on the tabletop. "I'll make sure to go see him later on this afternoon, then." He picks up the cup of tea I poured for him and takes long swallows, his cheerful demeanor suddenly shifting to a more solemn one. He seems to be thinking hard on something but can't quite find the correct way to speak his thoughts. I see the faintest hint of a grin playing at his smooth lips, and I take a guess as to what he's thinking. I prop my elbows on the wooden surface of the table and lean my upper body towards my husband. His eyes rise to meet mine, curious.  
  
"I think I know what you're thinking about," I say, smiling, "Could it be about a certain friend of mine who has taken a liking to a certain friend of yours, perhaps?"  
  
He sets his cup down and laughs heartily, leaning back into his chair. "Don't play coy, Tansho," he warns playfully, "What's happened since I've been gone?"  
  
I take yet another slow drink of my tea, teasing him. "Well," I begin, "Quite alot has happened. Koji and Koi have gone far past taking a liking to each other. As of now, you have the honor of escorting not one, but two ladies back to the Reikaku fortress."  
  
"Koi's coming with us?" he inquires. I nod happily. "Wow," he comments, "Koji's even quicker than me when it comes to bagging a pretty lady."  
  
I give him a playful slap on the arm, not sharp enough to be serious, but definitely sharp enough to warn him not to repeat that in front of Koi if he has any sense at all. He grins mischievously at me, his tantalizing little fangs poking out from beneath his lips.  
  
"But that's not all that's happened," I reply, taking up a bowl from the tray resting on the table. With a pair of chopsticks, I fill the bowl to the brim with steaming, slick noodles, then fill one for Tasuki as well. "Tokizo has asked Okichi for her hand in marriage, and they've bought a townhouse near the palace." I look up through my eyelashes as I sip noodles to see Tasuki's reaction. His eyebrows lift and he nods approvingly, smiling faintly as he does so.  
  
"That's great!" he remarks, but he seems to that's not all I have to say. "Go on," he encourages, "I want to hear everything."  
  
"Empress Hoki has decided to found a shelter for women, and Misa has decided to stay here in the seraglio and assist her," I conclude gleefully.  
  
My husband continues to slurp his noodles slowly, his mind obviously mulling over the few sentences I've said. "You and your friends have been pretty busy then, I guess," he finally replies, a bland expression on his face. His eyes then narrow and he glances at me suspiciously. "Do women do this often?" he asks, his voice partially serious and partially sarcastic. I grin playfully and reach across the table to lovingly pat his hand.  
  
"Only women like me, my darling," I answer coyly.  
  
A/N: Once again, so sorry that this update took forever, but I didn't expect my summer to be as busy as my school year. As you can see, my story is nearly finished, and I'm really having a hard time deciding just how it should be finished. I want to do it justice since it has been such a large and constant part of my life for the past two years (yep, two years – I began writing this the summer of my junior year). I plan on taking plenty of time to finish this properly, so please be patient in my last few updates. Also, thanks so much for the all the reviews!  
  
Aama  
  
To Prisstlilchica (cute name! ): Heh, I've had to answer this question a few times before, but no prob! Yeah, Tasuki's eyes are amber-colored in the series, but there is one picture in the FY art book that has his eyes shaded a dark greenish-gold color. And I loved them 'cause that's the color of my eyes! So I was like, what the hell – I'm gonna make his eyes the color I want them to be 'cause it's my story!   
  
To KittyLynne: Hey there, dear, no worries! I understand completely 'cause I've been in the same position (it took me a month to finally read and review the latest chapter of The Promise! ) I hope you do get around to it though, 'cause you know how much I value your views and opinions about my story. And you know that I'll always read and review yours 'cause there's not another one out there like it! 


	64. Burden

Chapter 64  
Burden  
  
It is a beautiful, bright, chilled day when I decide that it is time to begin packing for my impending trip to the mountain. I open my wardrobe doors wide and pull my mother's dark cedar chest from the bottom. It's only when I have it opened and sitting on top of my bed that I realize it would be impossible to carry this thing the week's journey to Mount Reikaku. My heart sinks down inside of me at the thought of leaving my mother's cedar trunk behind, and yet I know in my sunken heart that it cannot be taken. I now have no idea what can be used to pack my clothes in. The day before, Lady Hoki had presented a parting gift to Tasuki, Koi, Koji, and I – two pairs of beautiful mares on which to travel the week's journey to Reikaku. Therefore, I decide I need something designed for being carried upon a horse's back.  
  
Now knowing what needs to be done, I slip quickly into my bathing room to call on Naho by pulling the silk cord. She arrives at my door a few moments later, her face bright and questioning.  
  
"Yes, my lady?" she asks sweetly.  
  
"Naho, I need you to go to the stables and request a set of saddlebags for myself and a set for Lady Koi as well," I reply, "And also a few satchels if they are available."  
  
My young handmaid scurries away on her mission, and as she is leaving I see Misa emerge from her room. I call out to her to get her attention, and she lifts her face to smile at me. "And what are you doing this afternoon?" she asks when she reaches my chambers.  
  
"I've decided that's it's probably time I start packing," I answer, "If you have nothing to do, would you mind helping me?"  
  
My dear friend is more than happy to assist me, and it's not long before we've begun emptying my wardrobe to see what needs to be taken and what needs to be left behind, there is a knock at the door. Koi, Okichi, and Lady Junko all stand with Naho, whose little arms are laden with several leather saddlebags and canvas satchels.  
  
"Naho tells us that you're packing up your things for the journey to the mountain," Okichi replies, her tone of voice excited. "We'd love to help."  
  
I glance over at Koi. "And when we're done here, we'll probably need two or three of the courtesans to help us pack up Koi's things," I say playfully, making my darling friend scowl momentarily at me.  
  
After about an hour of sifting through the numerous under robes and gowns and sashes and slippers that fill my wardrobe, I suddenly realize that none of the clothes I own would be appropriate traveling clothes. The gowns' long hems would keep me from mounting the horse comfortably, and what I wore would no doubt be covered in dust and mud by the time we reach the mountain. The thought of ruining one of these beautiful gowns horrifies me. As if reading me mind, Lady Junko lays down a lovely red over robe that she had been inspecting and announces that she has a gift for Koi and I. She hurries off to her chambers and returns a few minutes later with two large bundles, each wrapped in bright-colored paper and tied with string. She hands one to me and the other to Koi, smiling all the while.  
  
"I supposed that you would not wish to wear one of your fine gowns on the journey, so I had a set of appropriate clothes made for you," she tells us, smiling in her elegant way.  
  
My heart deeply moved by my dear friend's generosity, I simply hold my brightly colored bundle for several moments, feeling its soft weight in my arms. I then set it down on my lavender coverlet and begin untying the string that binds it together. Koi follows my lead, and soon we have unwrapped our gifts. I can see that it is clothing, but when I lift the garment on top of the bundle and spread it out in the air in front of me to admire it, I am overwhelmed to see a pair of beautiful pantaloons the color of sand. The cinched ankles of the pants give the legs a voluptuous curve that mimics the movement of a gown, but allows for more freedom and movement of the legs. I clutch the pantaloons to my chest and exhale in delight. Junko's sapphire eyes are shining vividly, smiling at me.  
  
"I adore them!" I cry, flinging the pantaloons to arm's length again to admire them.  
  
"There's more there, silly," Lady Junko replies, coming to my side and lifting the next garment from the bundle of paper on my bed. A lovely azure blue under robe cropped so that is sits just above the knee dangles from her elegant fingers. Smiling, I reach for the next piece of clothing and lift an astoundingly beautiful crimson over robe into the air. The sleeve and bottom hems are embroidered with deep, rich images of flowers -- peonies and orchids gleam in vibrant creams and golds and lavenders. I am captivated and overwhelmed.  
  
"Thank you so much" I whisper to Junko, taking her hand in mine.  
  
"Don't act like you've been given immortality or something like that," she protests, squeezing my hand in return, "I just thought you'd need something nice to travel in."  
  
Koi studies her gift next, revealing an equally gorgeous ensemble of lavender pantaloons coupled with a deep red under robe and a midnight blue over robe embroidered with silver across the bodice. She slips the dark over robe over her shoulders momentarily, and we all marvel at how the dark fabric sets off her golden hair. She hugs Lady Junko and kisses her cheek, very near to tears. Koi has not been given many gifts in her lifetime.  
  
We continue packing for the better part of an hour, scouring my wardrobe, sleeping chambers, and bathing room for any thing that I may need to take with me to the mountain, but at the same time I make sure to pack only what I know to be necessary. In the end, the saddlebags and pouches are packed with only three sets of under and over robes, matching sashes and slippers, a cube of my favorite sandalwood soap, a sea sponge, a few cotton sleeping gowns, and my mother's black and crimson gown. In a small drawstring bag I pack two pairs of earrings, a bracelet, a necklace, the scarlet pendant that His Highness gave to me, and a single hair ornament -- the pearl hair pin that I wore when I paid my last respects to His Highness. The day that we leave for the mountain, I will wear the dark azure overcoat, red and blue earrings, and ruby hair clasp that Tasuki gave to me as gifts. I will take nothing else with me when I go. I need nothing else.  
  
After my belongings have been packed away, we migrate to Koi's room and begin working there. It takes yet another few hours to sift through her many new clothes, deciding which she should bring and which should be left behind. At last, she decides to pack in much the same way I did -- taking nothing but the necessities and a few sentimental things.  
  
It is dusk by the time the last pouch has been tied closed and stored away until the journey. The women all press kisses upon our cheeks and file back to their rooms, waving and laughing and sighing as they go, both happy and sad that Koi and I are preparing to leave them behind. Koi yawns and declares it her bedtime, and I smile and embrace her before she retires as well. Only Naho and Lady Junko remain. I run my fingers through my little handmaiden's soft hair and kiss her forehead, thanking her for her help. She simply smiles in the innocent way in which she always does, and returns to her room.  
  
"You will be missed," Lady Junko says once we are alone, her piercing blue eyes gazing off in the direction of the horizon, watching the yellow and red sun sink into the darkness of the ocean. "I have never known a woman like you, Tansho. Out of all the women that have come and gone from this seraglio in my years here, I have not once known one remotely like you." She turns and gazes at me in the same manner in which she was gazing at the sunset, and I am more honored in this moment than any I can remember.  
  
I am standing on the edge of the veranda, my palms resting on the wooden banister that separate me from the magnificent courtyard before me. My hands squeeze the wood as my emotions wash over me. Lady Junko turns her elegant body towards mine and walks in my direction, her eyes on me the entire time, watching me. I study the sway of the ruffled hem of her gown and the way her slender, slipper-clad feet poke out momentarily from the ruffles with each step she takes. Her dark, glistening hair frames her pale face, making her beauty almost overwhelming. Why she looks at me with such respect in her eyes is beyond me. She stops at my side and looks down at me, smiling faintly.  
  
"You do realize the power you have inside of you, don't you?" she asks, her tone of voice purely serious with a hint of concern underlying it. Her voice is deep and rich, and reminds me so wonderfully of satin.  
  
"I realize that I have something in me that has kept me alive," I answer truthfully, "I don't know if I would describe it as powerful, though."  
  
"But it is," the headmistress replies. "You have a gift, my dear. You have the astounding ability to command respect with a simple glance of your eyes. You can speak and one is instantly demanded to listen to your every word. And yet you have such kindness and love in your heart and such courage in your spirit that the power in you becomes elegance." She smiles again and reaches out her hand, pressing her smooth fingertips to my cheeks. "The only other woman I can think of who remotely resembles you is the Lady Priestess. You both have strong bodies that protect even stronger souls – how else could you both have lived through the many things that have aimed to harm you? You and she are kindred. You have a good heart, Tansho. A good, courageous heart that I shall always remember."  
  
I cannot reply to this. I can feel the tears swimming behind my eyes, and I long to let them go. But I promised myself there would be no more crying. I have nothing left in this world to cry about. For once in my life, I have nothing to worry over. There is nothing bad in my life. There is no more sorrow. And yet Junko's words resound inside my head, moving my soul, making it churn and clench, making my desire to weep unbearable. And so I cry. I look up into Junko's eyes, looking at her elegance, her beauty, her undeniable wisdom, and I weep for myself in a way I never have before. Never before has such words been spoken to me. Never before has my spirit been unwound and laid out in front of me so that I may see it for myself. It is amazing. It is breathtaking. Junko takes me into her arms and presses her cheek to the top of my head, embracing me fully and completely.  
  
I feel honored to know a woman like her. I feel honored to know all of the women I know -- my beloved Koi, Okichi, Misa, and Asako, Mayonaka, Lady Hoki, Naho, Lady Junko – and the Lady Priestess. They all have a presence that draws me closer and closer until I am captivated by them. I will never forget any of them. If I never see any of them again, I will always remember every detail about them -- the texture of their hair, the shade of their skin, the tones of their voices, the way they walk and laugh and smile. They could never be forgotten.  
  
Lady Junko and I part ways soon after the sun has sunk behind the west wall of the seraglio, and I turn in the direction of my chambers, looking forward to seeing Tasuki since the both of us has been preoccupied all day -- me with my packing, and him with the preparations for our departure. My thoughts are drifting calmly when I catch sight of Chichiri walking towards me, his bright blue hair shining in the new moonlight. He notices me as well and lifts a hand in greeting. When we reach each other, he offers a pleasant smile, and I happily return it.  
  
"I've just come from your chambers, Tansho," he replies, "Tasuki and I were having a sort of farewell chat, ya' know. "  
  
"But we're not leaving for another few days," I answer.  
  
"True, but there can never be just one farewell chat between friends, ya' know. Most likely we'll have another before your departure," he explains, smiling again.  
  
I smile sadly and lower my eyelids to hide the sorrow in my eyes. It has been so hard on Tasuki the last few months -- the war, losing his friends, and now he's returning home and leaving behind probably his dearest friend other than Koji. I gaze back at Chichiri and study the mask that covers his face. I can detect no line where the skin of his jaw meets the material of the mask, and other than the somewhat bland expression of his face, it is sometimes very hard to even notice the mask.  
  
"Chichiri," I reply, folding my hands together in front of me, "What do you think of me?"  
  
Truthfully, I have no idea in hell why I would ask such a brazen, unexpected thing, so, understandably, I'm rather ashamed of myself right after I've spoken. In all actuality, I do not expect an answer from him -- much less the one that I do receive.  
  
"I think that you're one of the bravest people I've ever known. I don't believe I've ever met a person who has done the things that you have done, ya' know," he answers softly. I see the lines on his mask that represent his eyes draw into straight lines, proving his seriousness. Suddenly, I realize why I asked him that question.  
  
"Have I been a burden to Tasuki?" I ask, my voice entirely unsure of itself. "If he had never known me, would things have been different for him -- for all of you?"  
  
"Of course things would have been different, Tansho," he answers, coming to stand closer to me. "One person can very easily change the progress of time, but I do not think you a burden to Tasuki. Not at all. Truthfully, I think of you as his savior. I doubt he would have done half the things he did if he had never known you, ya' know." He reaches out a hand and places his palm on the curve of my shoulder, and I find that I like being near to him. I feel like I'm standing on the shore of a great ocean, listening to the waves rolling, feeling the breath of the water on my skin. He calms me. "I'm going to tell you something that I never planned on telling you, Tansho," he says to me. I glance up at him, surprised to see how much taller he is than I. He and Tasuki stand just about the same. "To tell you the truth, I thought we'd never see you again after that first night in the tavern. I had no idea that Tasuki would fall so in love with you, ya' know." He pauses and smiles at me, squeezing my shoulder gently with his slender fingers. "But I'm glad he did. Your presence has done alot for him -- for many of us. You're an inspirational woman, Tansho."  
  
I am without words momentarily, but then I understand exactly what I am meant to say. "Thank you," I reply, my voice wavering, "And you have been an inspiration to me as well. All of the people I've known through Tasuki have changed my life in so many ways. His Highness, Lady Hoki, Nuriko, the Lady Priestess, you -- I have never known such people and I never will again, I suppose."  
  
"This is true," he answers, and I can sense the sorrow flowing in the soft tones of his voice. "I feel lost now in a way," he continues. "Our mission is over. The battles have been fought and won, Suzaku has been summoned, Miaka has returned to her world, Konan is safe -- and I am unsure of what must be done now. ya' know."  
  
"It is not over," I protest. "We still live and we must continue to do that. There is plenty to be done."  
  
He seems to like my answer, for his face suddenly brightens in a way I have never seen it. Suddenly, I am struck with an odd desire that I hesitate on for only a moment before deciding that it must be acted upon. I gaze upwards into his masked face.  
  
"May I ask you something, Chichiri?" I say, my voice very near a whisper. I see his brow narrow in question, but he nods his head.  
  
"Please don't be offended," I continue, "I'm not asking this out of curiosity -- I just need to see." I smile faintly, but I know that my eyes reflect nothing but seriousness. "Would you take off your mask so that I can see your face?"  
  
I am surprised to see a smile spread across his face. "Of course I'm not offended, Tansho," he answers, frowning at me as if I did something wrong. "The reason I wear this mask it to remind me of my past wrongdoings -- to make me remember every time I look in the mirror." He then takes his hand from my shoulder and presses his fingertips to the edges of the mask, pulling gently on the material until it lifts from the skin of his face. He lowers the mask and looks at me with his true face, and I see so many things there that I feel overwhelmed for a moment. I see the rich, light tone of his skin and the curves of his lips and his nose. It actually takes several long moments before I even take notice of his golden-colored eye and realize that it doesn't have a mate. The scar across his eyes is so jagged and menacing that I try not to grimace but can't stop myself from doing it. It reminds me of a claw, spread out over his eyelid, sealing it shut, blinding him. Without realizing what I'm doing, I reach my hand out and touch his cheek, pressing my fingertips gently to the place just beneath his scar. I do not touch it. I may begin to weep if I do, so I simply caress the edges of it. It was anger and sorrow and betrayal that gave him this scar.  
  
I take my hand away and gaze into his good eye, admiring the amber shade of his iris. It reminds me of sunset, and I tell him so. He only laughs softly and averts his gaze from mine.  
  
"Please don't be offended, Tansho," Chichiri replies, his gaze still directed at the courtyard instead of me, "But it's been quite awhile since a woman has looked at me like that, ya' know."  
  
I take his hand in mine and squeeze it gently, liking the feel of his slender, smooth fingers. "I'm not at all offended," I answer firmly. "Not at all."  
  
Finally, his gaze returns to mine and I set my eyes on his. "It has been an honor to know you, Chichiri."  
  
"You as well, Tansho," he answers. With a final squeeze, I release his hand and watch as he carefully dons his mask again, pressing the edges to his temples and jawbone to ensure a tight fit. "Your husband is probably wondering where you're at, ya' know. You'd better be going."  
  
"Yes," I agree, smiling in the direction of my chambers where I know Tasuki's waiting. I'm suddenly filled with a powerful longing to see him that makes my blood rush inside of me like ocean waves rushing onto the sand. "I should go."  
  
We bid farewell just as the moon is uncovered by a shroud of clouds, and the moonlight washes over us, covering us like a blanket, making our skin shine. I find that I'm saddened by his departure, and by the fact that he and I have not had many conversations like this one. It is not hard to recognize the strength that Chichiri possess in his soft-spoken, gentle spirit. It is not hard at all.  
  
When I reach my chambers, I find my husband lounging comfortably in a chair by the hearth. I close the door softly behind me so that he won't hear and sneak up behind him, sliding my arms around his shoulders once I reach his back. He starts for a minute before recognizing the touch of my skin on his, and then he relaxes happily into my embrace.  
  
"I haven't seen you all day," he remarks, "I've missed you."  
  
"And I've missed you," I reply, resting my chin upon his shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. One of his hands takes mine and he pulls me front behind him until I'm at his side. He then suddenly grabs me by the waist and pulls me down into his lap, hugging me close to him, his arms encircling me. I lean sideways into him and rest my head in the hollow of his neck, happy to be in his arms again. As one of his callused hands mindlessly caresses my shoulder, the other continues to hug my waist, keeping me close.  
  
I watch him, my eyes studying the side of his handsome face, roaming across the valleys and shadows of his skin. The firelight has shaded his hair ocher and his skin golden, enchanting me. I smile and snuggle deeper into his arms, pressing my nose and mouth to his throat to breathe in the scent of him -- a scent that still carries the earth and rain and forest upon it. When my eyes glance up, they catch him looking intently at me. His eyes seem concerned.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asks, bringing his hand up to brush strands of dark hair from my face. I blink furiously for a few moments, worried that tears may try to come. But they don't, and I only smile, not wanting to burden him with my sorrows. He frowns, obviously disappointed that I don't wish to confide in him. He straightens his back somewhat, shifting our position so that I'm not sitting straight up in his lap. His hands fold over mine. "Tell me what's wrong," he asks again.  
  
"I'm not sure," I answer truthfully. "I think that I'm just going to miss the seraglio, that's all. I've been here for so long that I've become very fond of the courtesans -- and Naho, Lady Junko and Empress Hoki. I'll miss them. I'll miss Okichi and Misa and Asako and Mayonaka, too. Won't you miss Chichiri?"  
  
Tasuki looks at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Of course I'll miss him," he says, glancing down at the soft carpet of my chambers. I see his eyes suddenly become unfocused, and I watch as they stare unknowingly into the brightness of the fire. I lean into him, curious and concerned, but then he speaks and I understand. "I miss them all," he whispers. "Nuriko...Chiriko....Mitsukake..." He then draws in a deep, almost ragged breath that startles me. "I miss His Highness and Tamahome. And I miss Miaka -- I miss her the most. You don't know how much I wanted her to stay; but I never told her that -- I never told anyone that. It wouldn't have been right. She's where she should be -- safe and happy in her own world. It wouldn't have been right for her to stay." He looks up at me, his eyes filled with sadness and longing.  
  
"If I could just see them all again..." he whispers, "Just for a moment."  
  
I reach my hand out and cradle his cheek within my palm, pulling him gently towards me until his head in resting in my arms. I embrace him fully, trying to comfort him without making him believe that he is weak for mourning. "I'm sorry," I say softly, whispering into his hair. "I'm sorry that they're gone."  
  
"Me too," he answers. He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes taking mine and holding them as if it were him embracing me in his arms. "But you're still here."  
  
I nod slowly in response. "Yes," I answer, "Yes I am." I lean forward and press my lips to his as I caress his cheek with my fingertips. I smile into his lips, breaking the gentle kiss. "I'll always be here," I tell him.  
  
"I've made preparations to leave the day after tomorrow," he says, his voice a strange mixture of sorrow, excitement, and dread.  
  
"And I'll be ready," I answer.  
  
Afterwards, we both fall into a deep sleep in my lavender bed, and I dream continuously of the mountain – my home.  
  
A/N: Hello there, all! Once again, so sorry for how long it took to update, but you know how life can be (especially in the fabulous summer ). Well, although I hate to admit it, this is the next to the last chapter. One more update, and "Tansho" will be completed on FF. I'll make sure to thank everyone properly next chapter, but I just want to tell you all ahead of time how truly thankful I am to those who have read and reviewed this story so faithfully. You've assisted me in becoming a better writer by speaking your minds on anything and everything that interested you in this story.  
  
Replies to reviewers:  
  
Nako-chan: Thank you!   
  
ShiningAngell: Thanks so much for all your wonderful comments; they're so insightful!  
  
MysticKitty17: Thanks a lot for your comments (and as for your question about the # of chaps left... Not many!)  
  
Neokosazume: Hehehe...thank you!   
  
Railynn: Thanks a bunch! It's good to know that there are others out there like me! Oh, and congrats on getting married! I hope everything goes well for you...good luck!)  
  
SL: I understand your point of view completely, and yes, I do realize that this story is quite long (and I do admit to dragging it out a bit in a few places, but that is larger due to the fact that I am still learning to be a professional writer. I'm not an experienced novelist just yet). But it is my firm belief that a piece of writing like this that has become a part of the author's life is better to be dragged out that rushed (I think it an insult to the story itself, actually). But I'm still very sorry that I have disappointed you. It is very hard for a writer to discover that her readers are no longer inspired by a story that used to move them. But I am writing this story to the best of my ability, and I am writing it as I see fit. And I will end it as I think it deserves. I'm so sorry if I have offended you in any way, but I think it an insult to my person and my love and desire to write if I do not defend myself and the products of my imagination and soul.  
  
Thanks to all reviewers! Your comments, compliments, and everything else had helped me in many ways!  
  
Aama 


	65. The Murmur in The Wind

1**Chapter 65**

The Murmur in The Wind 

The morning of the day we plan on departing for the mountain, I decide to make an excursion into the city to bid farewell to Asako and Mayonaka. Koi accompanies me, and although Tasuki and Koji are hesitant to let us leave the palace alone, we manage to persuade them, telling them to come looking if we aren't back by noon. We feel their eyes on us as we walk through the southern gates of the palace and enter the depths of the city, and although we both want to giggle at their paranoia, we understand their concern.

Ever since Koji learned the details of mine and Koi's past, he has become extremely protective of the both of us, almost as if he's afraid that Shingen will dare to come looking for us, looking for his vengeance. The handsome blue-haired young man quickly earned even more respect from me when the disclosure of Koi's days in the brothel unfazed him. I'm sure that Tasuki informed him of our old lives somewhat while they were away at war, but I know that the details of the years before we entered the seraglio weren't disclosed by Koi herself until recently. He had been sympathetic and understanding. He had consoled her in much the same way Tasuki had me. There had been no judgment, just as there had been none with His Highness or Chichiri or the Lady Priestess or anyone else whom I had had the honor to meet since I fell in love with Tasuki. And this is why Koji now has my deepest respect and will have it for as long as I live.

Koi and I walk arm in arm through the markets, glancing to our right and left every so often to inspect trays of jewelry or baskets of pungent, sweet-smelling fruit. The sounds of this place fill our ears, and the noise brings back memories -- both happy and sorrowful. The shouting and arguing of the merchants and buyers float in the air like insects, mingling with the barking and clucking and braying of the animals tied at the stalls or enclosed in wooden cages that are scattered among the streets. Koi purchases a pair of peaches at a fruit stall, and we nibble at the soft fruit as we continue strolling towards Mayonaka's home. By the time we reach her door, nothing but the brown pits of the peaches and their sweet juices remain in our hands.

We only have to knock once at her open door before her pale hair streams through and her softly wrinkled face appears. She grins happily and catches up both in a warm hug before any sort of greeting can be spoken.

"My girls!" she coos, kissing our cheeks and squeezing our hands, "My dear girls, how happy I am to see you both!"

"The same to you, Mother," Koi replies, embracing the old midwife again.

"Come in, come in," Mayonaka demands, pulling us gently over her welcoming threshold.

The interior of Mayonaka's house makes it obvious to any visitors what her profession is. The small alcove serves as a sort of waiting room for her many patients, with several small wooden benches set against the walls to give the expecting mothers a place to sit and relax as they wait for their turn with the midwife. There are only three other rooms in her house: the kitchen, the bedroom, and her working area, in which she receives patients and continuously mixes herbs and other ingredients for the array of teas, lotions, ointments, poultices, and other medications used in midwifery. It is this collection of her medications that Koi and I first encounter upon entering Mayonaka's working area. Glass, ceramic, and wooden bottles and pots are lined up along three large tables, which Mayonaka has arranged in the middle of the room in the shape of a horseshoe in order for her to stand in their center and be able to reach for what she needs without walking far. Situated in the center of the tables is another large table, this one littered with numerous plates and bowls of herbs, spices, and other ingredients that the elderly midwife was clearly working with before answering her door.

In the far corner, I spot the long, padded bench that Mayonaka has the expectant mothers sit or lie on while she is examining them. Several years ago, she had the bench especially made for her by a master carpenter. She gave him specific instructions as to how it would be constructed – extremely long and wide so that a woman can lie completely stretched out upon it comfortably, without her arms or legs in danger of dangling from the sides; a surface upholstered with the finest satin and generously padded with cotton to ensure the comfort of the expecting patients, along with a pillow sewn directly into the head of the bench; and, finally, a device resembling the hinges of a door built into the middle of the bench that allowed it to be pulled and locked into a sitting position. The midwife had nowhere near the amount of money needed to make something of this design, but she and the carpenter worked out a way of payment that suited them both fine. Mayonaka has since delivered all seven of the carpenter's children free of charge, as well as five of his grandchildren; and she has vowed to serve the women of his family free of charge for as long as she lives.

"Give me a hand, my girls," she says, waving us over to the padded bench, "I need to get this thing set up for Ichiyu; she'll be here around noontime."

Koi and I help Mayonaka pull the heavy wooden bench out of the corner and near the horseshoe of tables in the center of the room. She then instructs us in how to lift the head of the bench into a sitting position, being picky as to exactly how it's angled.

"It's quite uncomfortable if the head's too far up – it puts strain on the back and pushes on the belly," she explains as she leads us into the kitchen, where we have already guessed Asako to be.

A broad smile crosses our friend's face when she spots us at the kitchen's open doorway. Asako's smile has become more beautiful since she came to live here in the midwife's house; the black spaces in her mouth where her missing teeth once were no longer make sadness course through me at the sight of them. Instead, I see them simply as a part of her, just as I see the gray of her hair as a part of her and no longer just an obvious sign of her premature aging due to the hard years spent in the brothel. Asako has grown younger since she's been here, more vibrant, more beautiful, so much more alive.

"I was hoping you'd pay a last visit before you two leave us!" she announces, her voice a mixture of happiness and hidden sadness. In one hand she brandishes a knife, while the other presses a fresh cabbage onto the wooden chopping table.

I walk to her side and press a kiss on her cheek as she continues to slice through the cabbage. "We would never dream of leaving before saying goodbye to the both of you," I say in a soothing tone of voice.

"So, when are you planning to depart the capital?" Mayonaka inquires.

"Later this afternoon," Koi answers reluctantly, giving the elderly midwife a look mixed with both excitement and dread.

"Goodness," she remarks, "So soon..."

"Yes," I answer, "It is so strange to me – how much I long to go home to the mountain, and how much I long to remain here in the capital. But I can sense that my life is shifting away from this place; I can sense my soul drifting towards that mountain. I know I must go, and I know that I will be happy there."

Mayonaka seems to agree with this explanation. She slowly and silently nods her head for a moment before replying. "This is very true, Tansho. People do not bind themselves to one place for the duration of their lives. We are meant to move, to change, to walk, to breathe different air and drink different water." She is silent again for a moment before turning to Koi. "And you, my girl?" she asks, her deep eyes wondering, "Are you at peace with yourself? Are you sure of yourself?"

We can't help but to all look towards Koi and wait for her answer. It is true that she made her decision rather quickly, and although there is no doubt in my mind that she loves Koji as much as I love Tasuki, I have in fact wondered many times if she is making the right decision in accompanying us to the mountain. She has never left the city. She knows no other life. Can she live happily on a far-away mountain, with me as the only other female companion?

"I have wondered many times if my answer to Koji was too hasty," she finally replies, "But every now and then I will hear or see or feel something that tells me I have made the right decision. I never thought I could love a man like I love Koji. I never thought I would have the chance or the ability. And I know I will never again know a woman like you, Tansho. I knew that I cannot let the both of you leave my life, and so I made the decision to leave the city and go with you to the mountain."

I smile, Asako sighs, and Mayonaka nods once again. "You will leave this city today," she says solemnly, "And you will leave with my blessings, my girls." She looks both of us in the eyes, her wrinkled, beautiful face a mesmerizing beacon of wisdom and love. "May your lives upon the mountain be safe and happy and long. May you both know no more sorrow and regret. May you forever remember where you rose up from, and forever honor that place."

We are all very silent for a long while. Asako's knife has paused, and only the sounds of our breath can be heard above the racket of the city outside the kitchen windows. It is a timid knock at the door that breaks us from the silence. Mayonaka grins. "That will be Ichiyu," she announces. "Asako, my girl, could you please attend to her?"

"Of course," Asako replies as she lays down the knife and kisses Koi and I on the cheek before stepping into the work area to welcome the young woman. Mayonaka smiles after her apprentice, pure pride shining on her aged but lovely face.

"That woman was born to do this," she remarks to us, "It is rare to find a woman like her. Her common sense has taught her more than I ever will." She then turns her eyes to Koi and I, as if to say she isn't yet finished with us.

"I gave you my blessings, my girls, but not my true thoughts," she begins, "I discovered long ago that all things that happen in this world happen for a reason. The gods do not simply place us on this earth just to be amused by our downfalls and mistakes and occasional stupidity. For every decision we make, every word we speak, every action we make, and every breath we take, there is a profound reason behind it. Remember this always."

Mayonaka's eyes burn hard into mine, and I can sense the fierceness of her words. She speaks true and hard from her soul, and I know that I must listen. "You met that man for a reason, Tansho. I've told you this before. He was brought to you by the gods. You were brought to him by the gods. And the same goes for you, too, my dear Koi. The men that you both love have a purpose in your world."

We cannot speak, so we simply nod. And Mayonaka nods in return, her linen-white hair bouncing in its buns. A smile spreads across her face like a ripple across the surface of a lake. And then suddenly she is laughing, her mouth opened wide to reveal stained teeth worn down by age, but lovely just the same. And we are laughing with her as if there is nothing wrong in the world, as if our happiness were perfect and undisturbed, as if we knew all be well. Then I realize that it is true – all is well, all is as it should be in our world. And I laugh harder, reaching out my arms in ecstasy to pull Mayonaka and Koi into an embrace. I am a free woman; I am a happy woman; I am a loved woman; and I am a woman who loves. Yes. Yes, all is as it should be.

When we prepare to depart Mayonaka's home later that afternoon, I feel perfectly at peace with myself. I feel as if my shoulders have been freed from a harness, and I feel as if my heart were floating happily above my head, peering far away into the distant future where even more happiness awaits for us.

"I will tell Empress Hoki that she must call upon you and Asako when her time comes to deliver. I will tell her that only you could bring her child into this world with perfect peace and gentleness," I say to Mayonaka as I stand on her threshold, holding her hands in mine. A few feet away Koi and Asako are sharing their last farewells as well.

"It would be an honor to assist the Lady in bringing the heir of Konan into the world," she answers. Her bright eyes shimmer in the afternoon sunlight, showing both tears of joy and sadness. "You will be missed, my beloved girl," she tells me, "But you will never be forgotten. And you must swear to return for a visit whenever you are able!"

"I promise with all my heart, Mayonaka!" I reply happily, clenching her soft hands even harder, "I will always remember you. You have saved my life many times, and you must know that you now have a part of it forever with you." She nods slowly, closing her eyes. Then she opens them and leans forward into my embrace, pressing her lips to my forehead and whispering her final blessing in my ear.

As Koi and Mayonaka say their last goodbyes, I say mine to Asako. I will miss her the most of them all, I realize. Once, long ago, I both hated and loved her just as a daughter often does to her mother; but now I can hold only love for this magnificent woman with hair the color of the moon.

"I used to not like him at all, you know," she says to me with a playful wink, obviously referring to the time when she forbade me to see Tasuki again. "I could think of no reason whatsoever that you should continue to be with him, but that night when you left, I could feel it. I could feel how much you loved that man; to just run into the night like that, not knowing anything, just knowing that you must get to him – that is what made me realize it. And so you have nothing but my blessings, my Little One. I hope that you know nothing but happiness and contentment for the rest of your years, for the gods know that you deserve it."

I hold Asako in my arms for a long, long time, making sure that I learn the feel of her before I leave her. I do plan to see her again some day, but only the gods know when that will be. And so I take my time in telling her goodbye, for she was my mother when I had none.

The sensation of having Mayonaka and Asako's house behind us is an odd feeling to Koi and I as we walk back towards the palace gates, but we both know it will not stay at our backs for long. We both know that we can never stay away from them for long, and this gives us strength to return to the palace to say the remainder of our bittersweet goodbyes.

Koi and I return to the seraglio both at peace and hurting inside. We kiss each other's cheeks in farewell as we go on to our separate rooms to pack the last of our belongings and change into our traveling clothes. As I'm slipping the cropped over-robe over my shoulders, Naho comes in, her face hidden by her long hair. Her sadness is obvious, and I am more than willing to take her slight frame into my arms and hold her in a last goodbye.

"I will miss you dearly, my little Naho," I say to her, kissing the top of her soft head. "You served me well. And you also gave me friendship, for which I will always love you." I lean away from her to look into her innocent eyes.

"I will never forget you, my lady," she whispers to me, sorrow beginning to take the form of tears in the corners of her soft eyes.

"See that you don't," I answer playfully, smiling. "Now, will you accompany me to the main courtyard? I need your assistance one last time in carrying these bags of mine."

"Of course, my lady."

As we walk down the veranda and through the gates of the seraglio, I do not glance behind me. Yes, I will miss this place terribly, for it was a haven and temporary home for me. But I will not cling to it. I know that my home is beyond the roads of Konan, many days away; and I know that when I reach that place I will be happier than ever before in my life. But the seraglio will stay in my heart, locked away along with the many memories I made here. This is the place where I met Naho, Lady Junko, and all the other courtesans who took me into their arms as if I were one of them. This is the place where Lady Tsuya once lived, loved by an emperor and forever remembered. And this is the place where I became Tasuki's wife, and he became my husband. I do allow myself one glance over my shoulder to look at the gazebo in the center of the great courtyard, the beautiful place where I took Tasuki's hands in mine as the sun set behind us. With a deep sigh and a soft smile, I turn away again.

The main courtyard is filled with the people who have gathered to bid us farewell. The courtesans whom I befriended are all huddled together, their faces full of sadness. Lady Junko stands with them, her lips smiling but her eyes wet with tears. Empress Hoki, her little hands folded over her rounded belly, stands with Misa and Okichi, who both appear ready to burst into tears at any moment. Tokizo stands close to Okichi, gently holding her hand in his. Tasuki and Koji are busy with the horses, Chichiri assisting them as they load the satchels onto the mares' dark hides. They stop when they see me approaching. My arrival means that it is time for us to depart. Koi stands near her horse, having already said her goodbyes and eager to begin the journey to her new life. As Naho and I silently hand off my belongings to my husband to be loaded onto my mare, I suddenly feel the full weight of my grief.

Tears rolling unabashedly down my face, I embrace my friends one by one, beginning with the courtesans. They each wrap me in their arms, whispering their good wishes for a safe journey. I thank them for their friendship, for accepting me into the seraglio. Lady Junko bows slightly to me, and I bow to her in return. She then curls her long, graceful arms around me and kisses the top of my head as a mother would do.

"Blessings on you, Tansho," she says to me, her azure eyes gleaming. "Blessings on you and on your children and on your children's children. May your name live forever."

I look at her, wishing I could I have known her long ago, wishing I could stay and know her better; but I simply smile and bow my head to her in thanks.

The Empress presses her palms to my face and kisses my forehead. She then pulls me into her arms so that I am gently pressing on her ripe belly.

"You will be missed, Tansho," she replies, her soft, melodious voice drifting into my ears for the last time, "I wish so much for you. I wish you happiness and love, and I wish you peace and contentment. You will never be forgotten here."

"I thank you, my lady, for all that you and His Highness did for me and my friends. Without you, we would have been lost."

"You are welcome, my dear friend. It has been such an honor to know you. Such an honor." A breeze catches her purple hair, making it wisp around her face momentarily. I take her hands in mine and smile happily at her.

"When your time comes, my lady, call upon the midwife Mayonaka and her apprentice Asako," I tell her, "Their hands are like no others."

"I will," she answers, "I will."

Tokizo bends down to kiss my cheek, his lips pressing softly against my skin. Sadly, I smile up at him. "You protected me," I reply, "I will never forget that." And that is all that is said between us, for our eyes speak more than our words ever could. I can see his wishes for me. I can see his hope and love for me. And I can see his love for Okichi etched everywhere on his handsome face, which puts me at peace with them both, for I know they will always protect each other.

I take Okichi in my arms, then Misa. They both weep openly and fiercely into my hair, and I let them. Memories of them wash through my mind, making it difficult to release them from my embraces. But we manage to break apart, and after several more long moments of whispering and laughing and sniffling, I know it is time to go.

"I love you both with all my soul," I tell them, my eyes looking softly into theirs. "We are bound together for the remainder of our lives; I know this. So we will never be truly separated. Remember this always, my beloved friends."

After a final embrace, they release me. As I pass Naho, I bend over and graze her soft cheek with my lips and whisper my thanks into her ear. She smiles into my face, and I can see her happiness for me there, gazing straight at me. And it gives me strength to finally join my husband, Koji, and Koi, all of whom have been looking on with pained expressions. But when I take Tasuki's hand, and he looks down into my eyes, I feel no fear or sadness or regret. I feel only joy.

"Farewell, Tansho," Chichiri replies cheerfully as he helps me mount my horse.

"Farewell, Chichiri," I answer, gazing down at him. "I am happy to have known you, my friend."

"As am I, ya know," he says, his masked face smiling.

He then approaches Tasuki, and I watch with tears in my eyes as they embrace, laying their heads on each other's shoulders, both obviously trying not to show the true extent of their sadness.

"See ya later, Chichiri," Tasuki says, his voice cheerful although all who are present know how his soul is suffering.

"Have a safe journey, my friend," Chichiri answers. He waves at Koji and Koi, who smile and wave in return. He then turns to me and nods his head as if something has been spoken between us that only we know of. This man is a good man. He is like no other I've ever known, and everyday that I awake in my new life to come, he will be one of the many faces I will see in my mind's eye, smiling at me, assuring me that I am free and safe. I smile sorrowful at home, and nod my head in return.

And so, that is how it ended. As easily as turning our horses in the direction of the main gates, we left it behind us, mournfully but purposefully. And there is no more heartache. With the voices of our friends rising into the air at our backs, bidding us farewell, we urge our mares into a slow pace as we make our way through the courtyard and out the main gates of the palace. And there is no more heartache. I do not turn my head over my shoulder to look back. I place my eyes on a faraway field to the north of the city, a field I know we will be passing by in a few hours; and there my eyes remain. And there is no more heartache.

I feel the warm, safe presence of my husband to my right; behind me I feel the presence of Koji and my beloved Koi. And in front of me I see my future, my beginning, my end. I reach out to it with my heart, knowing that I shall be there soon, knowing that it is no longer beyond my reach. I have such great hopes for my life. I have so many wishes, so many desires. And the realization that they are no longer separated from me as they were in the Black Dove is a powerful feeling.

It is not long before we have reached the boundaries of the capital and find ourselves on the road that will lead us towards our home. We turn to look at each other, smiling, laughing, and we are suddenly filled with a sensation of bliss and contentment. All of us. We feel nothing but freedom and happiness; and when I turn my face towards Tasuki, my beloved husband, my friend, my dearest love, my heart, I part my lips to speak. I whisper soft, unheard words into the air; and I wait patiently as they are lifted up and carried to my husband's ears on the gentleness of the wind. My lips smile. My eyes shine. And my soul begins to sing as the wind carries us away, murmuring my tender words until they are echoing across the earth.

"Thank you, my beloved."

The End 

Author's Note: I want to thank every single person who ever read and/or reviewed this story. The simple fact that you sat down for a few minutes one day to read a chapter of "Tansho" means a great deal to me. I want to thank you all for supporting me, encouraging me, inspiring me, and critiquing me. I'm both overjoyed and immensely sad that this story has ended, but I know that everything is meant to end, and I think I ended this the way it deserved. I feel such pride when I look at this story of mine, because I remember all the days and nights and imagining and planning and writing. And when I read your reviews, I can tell that my story has moved you in some way; and I am so thankful that I had people like you to read and critique this for me. Because of you, I believe I have become a better writer.

Alright, here goes the personal answers and "thank you's" to certain reviewers. They're gonna be long, so bear with me!

Nako-chan: I want to thank you for all the reviews you've left me! All of them helped me in some way or another. And, yes, I would love to get this story published someday (though it would definitely take some re-writing and revising in order to respect Fushigi Yuugi copyrights). And if I ever do, I promise to let you know! I'm honored that I have inspired you in your own writing. And thank you for the compliment on my own writing style! It's alright that you may not write well now, but keep doing it & I promise that you will improve (keep reading, also!). To improve on anything, you must practice. Most of all, thanks for understanding the length of this story. Part of me did not want to end it abruptly mainly because of my immense love for my characters, but I believe that I ended it in the right way & in the way in which it deserved. And I can promise you that my imagination is still going strong! Thanks again & good luck!

Claudia: Thanks so much for all the wonderful compliments. I especially liked that you noticed the emphasis put on Tasuki & Miaka's relationship. It was a very important relation in both FY and my story, and I felt I needed to incorporate in somewhere in my writing. And as for your question about Tamahome – yes, he did die. But he is reincarnated and we see him at the very end of FY, though the others in the Universe of the Four Gods won't discover this until the OAVs. Thank you again & I'm so glad that you've enjoyed reading my story.

Railynn: Well, I'm glad that I helped you see the potential of fanfictions (some, at least). And I'm sorry to say it, but yes, this is definitely the last chapter. Believe me, I could keep on writing this until I'm an old woman, but I think I've ended it where it needs to end. I hope all of your questions concerning the plot of "Tansho" have been answered, but if they're not, please e-mail me & I'll help however I can! Thank you again for reading and reviewing "Tansho", and I'm so happy that you've enjoyed it. And I wish you a happy marriage with all my heart! Good luck!!! (P.S. Thanks for backing me up concerning SL. I appreciate that greatly).

Chaotic Demon: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing "Tansho". I'm glad that you've enjoyed it & I hope that you enjoyed the final chapter, as well!

Otaku-no-miko: Did my penname really used to be "Tansho"? Hmm, I don't remember that. My first one was "Inez", and then "Iseult", then my present one. But, who knows, I might have used that name after all! Anyways, I'm so happy that you've loved reading my story. And I'm honored that you've put me on such a high pedestal – though I truly don't deserve it! Oh yeah, as for the "no da" – I used the approximate English translation in order to be consistent with the rest of the story (I don't really like to mix Japanese terms into my fanfics). I like the idea of keeping it all in one language (keeps it kinda stream-lined, you know?) And thank you so much for your numerous reviews! I'm glad to know you've loved reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Thank you again!

Shining Angel: Thank you so much & I will always remember you and the other fans of "Tansho"!

Keeraina: So sorry, dear, but all things have an ending! About your own writing, just keep doing it & imagining, and I promise that you will improve over time! Just write on your free time & it'll take the place of reading "Tansho"! Thanks you again and good luck with all you do!

Other thanks to MysticKitty17, Zerianyu, Lee Larrabee, Shadowkeyu, frenchiecangal, Cacat-angel, shadow priestess, Chibi Kaz, Lady Viola, tensai-yuki, KittyLynne, and everyone else who I haven't mentioned here who ever read or reviewed "Tansho". You all mean a great deal to me!

I hope all of you, my readers, have enjoyed reading "Tansho", and I want you to know that I plan on keeping it posted on for as long as possible in case you ever wanted to print chapters out or re-read certain parts.

Thank you again. I'll always remember you, and I hope that you'll always remember "Tansho".

Aama


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